LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



AFTERMATH: 



CITY AND COUNTRY, BERG AND THAI. 



GATHERED AND GARNERED 



MRS. B. M. BUCKHOUT. 



" Once again the fields we mow, 
And gather in the aftermath." 

" Not the sweet, new grass with flowers 
In this harvesting of ours; 

Not the upland clover bloom ; 
But the rowen mixed with weeds. 
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads, 
P^ Where the poppy drops its seeds 

Qiy^ In the silence and the gloom." 



hl^ 







NEW YORK : 

W. B. SMITH & CO., 

Bond Street. 



v ^. h % 



\. 






THE LIBRARY 
or CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



Copyright, 1882, 

BY W. B. SMITH & CO., 

New York. 



PREFACE. 



Althoqgh more than one half of the time occupied in my summer tour 
was passed upon shipboard, in London, Paris, Rome, Dresden, and Berlin, 
for reasons satisfactory to myself I have ignored those two months, and 
have prepared a record of some weeks of travel in places of really minor 
importance. 

I am well aware that it is impossible to disarm criticism, even if one 
desired so to do ; therefore that is not my object in writing this little intro- 
ductory. But I wish to say briefly as possible that during a four-months' 
absence from home, every hour as far as practicable was filled with patient 
and painstaking sight-seeing ; and that I found something novel or inter- 
esting in the experience of each day. Without attempting to exhaust the 
sights of any place, I have designed to speak of the particular scenes and 
objects most enjoyed by myself, without reference to those which another 
might more highly appreciate ; and also allude to such historical associa- 
tions as appealed the most strongly to my individual feelings. 

I know that one may bring back from Europe a burdensome amount 
called information, in regard to museums and galleries ; in this regard, I 
have endeavored not to be tiresome. While making no pretensions to being 
a connoisseur, I have maintained the right to individual preference, in men- 
tioning any objects of art. Looking forward with earnest longing for the 
hour when I might visit some of the celebrated collections of the Old 
World, I was yet determined not to lose sight of the many other experi- 
ences which make or mar the happiness of the traveller. 

The daily jottings which filled my memorandum have been the hints 
suggesting the different articles I have prepared. 

Earnest in my endeavors to strictly regard historical truth, to be honest 
in the recital of personal experience, wishing " to nothing extenuate, nor 
set down aught in malice," I heartily present this record of days of pleas- 
urable toil, which brought rich returns in memories of priceless value. 

Heeding the title of my little book, you will not expect too much of one 
who, gleaning in well-trodden paths, in all sincerity says : — 

•' And what is writ, is writ ; 
Would it were worthier I " 

(3) ^•^•^- 



NOTE. 



[The following letter explains itself. — W. B. S. & Co., Publishers.] 



East Saginaw, Mich., April 21, 1S82. 

Messrs. W. B. Smith & Co.: 

Dear Siis. — Glancing over the Century ior May, last evening, I was 
dismayed on seeing among the advertised lists of Longfellow's works, a 
book entitled Aftermath. 

Although circumstantial evidence is strong that I am guilty of literary 
piracy, I plead innocent to the charge. 

I supposed that I had secured a unique title, not dreaming that any 
book of that name existed. The very boldness of the suggested theft, 
the presumption of plagiarizing anything from Longfellow at this present 
time, ought to be convincing proof of my innocence, and alas ! my 
ignorance. 

In my volume of his miscellaneous poems are the two stanzas called 
Aftermath, from which I quoted for my title-page. 

It has occurred to me that possibly some of his minor poems have 
been collected under that head; at present, I have no means of ascer- 
taining. 

The question is, What can be done about it ? I have no desire to sail 
under false colors, and yet fully realize the difificulties in the way of mak- 
ing any change at this late day. 

Would it be possible to explain that this book was in press before the 
writer saw the list of Longfellow's works .'' 

Sincerely yours, 

B. M. BUCKHOUT 



CONTENTS. 



I. Paris to Brussels 7 

II. Antwerp i6 

III. Holland 23 

IV. The Hague 28 

V. Amsterdam 37 

VI. Cologne 49 

VII. Up the River Rhine 61 

VIII. Heidelberg 73 

IX. Strasburg 79 

X. Basle and Lucerne 84 

XI. RiGi 88 

XII. Down from and around Rigi 95 

XIII. Brunig Pass 100 

XIV, GiESSBACH Falls io5 

XV. Interlaken and the Jungfrau no 

XVI. Bern 116 

XVII. The Rhone, Lake Geneva, and Geneva .... 122 

XVIIL One Day's Journey 128 

XIX. Chamouny, over the TSte Noir and Brieg . . 134 

XX. The Simplon Pass 144 

XXI. IsoLA Bella 155 

XXH. The Lakes of Northern Italy and Bellagio. . 160 

XXIIL The Cathedral of Milan 169 

XXIV. Passing Remarks 182 

XXV. Florence 186 

XXVL Venice 208 

XXVIL Vienna 234 

XXVIII. Munich 244 

XXIX. Nuremberg 254 

(5) 



AFTERMATH. 



I. 

PARIS TO BRUSSELS. 
" To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new." 

Reluctantly I turned away from the city which ever 
wins with its loveliness, fascinates with its glare and 
glamour, yet wearies with its mad whirl, to seek new 
scenes of interest ; which, if less replete with asso- 
ciations, may yet possess some characteristic features 
of which the hasty and necessarily superficial observer 
may venture to speak. 

The ride to Brussels occupied six hours. The change 
from the sights and sounds of the thronged streets of 
cities to speeding through a highly cultivated and pleas- 
antly undulating country possessed a delightful charm. 
Customs examination at Quevy was a necessary for- 
mality, but as it was not critical, the trifling delay was 
only one of the minor incidents of the day ; another was 
the purchase of a lunch at Tergnier, a never-to-be-for- 
gotten lunch, worthy of note, although not reaching the 
accepted standard in a land supposed to excel in appe- 
tizing viands. The most novel sight of the day to me 
was the extensive bleaching grounds, near some of the 
towns where linen factories abound, and where much of 

(7) 



8 AFTER MA TH. 

the land of the environs is appropriated to the cultiva- 
tion of flax ; that raised in Southern Belgium having a 
particularly fine reputation. 

" Still on the green flats, fair to view, 
The fields of flax are abloom with blue j 
And still on the soft sward's level reach 
The damsels spread their webs to bleach." 

An early evening hour found us in commodious quar- 
ters in an old-fashioned but thoroughly comfortable 
hotel. The clerk, or portiere, was an Englishwoman, 
that being a position frequently occupied by women 
throughout Europe. 

A half-day was passed in a general observation of 
the city, and as one and all were surfeited with 
churches, museums, and picture galleries, it was unani- 
mously resolved that while in Brussels we would ignore 
all such sights ; therefore, whatever of golden opportu- 
nity was lost by that decision will be cheerfully re- 
corded upon the list of ''what might have been," as we 
thereby gained more time for a survey of the old Bel- 
gian capital. 

It seemed to possess many of the characteristics of a 
French city ; and in fact, the citizens are proud of the 
name so often given it, the second Paris, — though 
they claim that only the desirable features of the gayest 
of capitals are retained. The lower class speak the 
Flemish language, while the nobility and middle class 
use French entirely, and the traveller would be obliged 
to go aside from general places visited in order to hear 
the national tongue. 



PARIS TO BRUSSELS. 9 

The line of fortifications which formerly surrounded 
the city in the form of a pentagon have been converted 
into handsome boulevards, where many of the finest 
buildings are situated. The upper part of the city has 
broad paved streets ; one, the Rue Royale, being es- 
pecially attractive with its elegant business blocks : one 
portion fronts upon a small, pleasant park, an admirable 
adjunct to the stately buildings which surround it. Both 
the royal and ducal palaces are situated upon this park, 
which also possesses an historical interest, as the scene 
of the conflict between the Belgian insurgents and the 
government of the United Provinces. 

A large portion of the city has been completely mod- 
ernized ; but the Hotel de Ville and the ancient guild 
houses yet remain to testify to its former glory. These 
front upon the Grande Place, which is said to be one 
of the finest mediaeval squares in existence ; and it has 
also been the scene of the most memorable acts in the 
annals of Belgium. It was here that, among many 
others, the Counts Egmont and Horn were executed 
(unjustly, as history records) by order of the Duke of 
Alva. Near by is their memorial in bronze, which 
represents them on their way to execution. 

The guild houses, built during the Middle Ages, have 
a very quaint, though imposing appearance. These 
guilds were organizations of citizens, according to the 
various trades in which they were engaged : there were 
the butchers, carpenters, masons, mariners, and others ; 
each having a house adorned with an appropriate em- 
blem conspicuously placed ; as for instance, the Mariners' 
Hall has the gable constructed like the stern of a ship, 
with four protruding cannon. 



10 AFTERMATH. 

Among the imposing edifices in the lower part of the 
city, the new Exchange may be regarded as particularly 
worthy of note. As a building representing the com- 
mercial centre of a thriving metropolis, in its large 
dimensions and rich ornamentation it is not to be 
ignored. The principal fagade has a Corinthian colon- 
nade, which is reached by a handsome flight of steps ; 
on either side is a fine allegorical group, while the pedi- 
ment contains a magnificent relief, representing Belgium, 
attended by Commerce and Industry. Above the cor- 
nice is a finish of small Ionic columns, which, with the 
groups of pillars and numerous pieces of sculpture, 
adds materially to the effect. 

Many of the houses seemed to be finished in stucco, 
and nearly all were white. It was not uncommon to 
see carving or sculpture over the door or between the 
windows of the dwelling. Usually the design was of a 
religious character; the figure of the Madonna being 
most frequently observed. 

In all the public squares, and occasionally upon the 
street corners, are groups or statues of bronze or marble. 
Some of these have attained a celebrity which is not 
due either to chasteness of design or superiority of 
workmanship. 

There are many handsome monuments ; two espe- 
cially attractive, being the elegant memorial called the 
"Martyrs' Monument," and the one erected to com- 
memorate the present constitutional existence of Bel- 
gium. But of all, the one which most impressed me 
was that of the hero of the first Crusade. The eques- 
trian statue of Godfrey de Bouillon stands upon the 



PARIS TO BRUSSELS. II 

very spot where he stood eight hundred years ago to 
urge upon the Flemings the cause so dear to his own 
heart ; his eloquent words, in that hour of enthusiastic 
devotion, winning many new recruits to enlist under the 
banner of the Cross. 

Not far from the H6tel de Ville, the house is pointed 
out within whose walls "fair women and brave men" 
were gathered on the occasion of the ball given by the 
Duchess of Richmond, upon that fateful night in July, 
1815. 

But Brussels is, in reality, only the stepping-stone to 
Waterloo ; therefore an early afternoon hour found us 
at the Station du Midi, ticketed for Braine I'Alleud, a 
village nine miles from Brussels, and two from the 
famous battle-field. During the brief ride we shared a 
compartment with a sweet-faced Sister of Charity, and 
a young girl, evidently a scholar. The route took us 
through a pleasant country, the railway running into 
many deep cuts and through a number of short tun- 
nels. 

Reaching the station mentioned, possibly a half-score 
left the cars, whose destination was the same as our 
own. Conveyances were in waiting, and all went to- 
gether over high roads and by-roads in a nondescript 
vehicle, possessing some of the peculiarities of both 
hay-cart and band wagon. Houses were frequent along 
the road, which was very narrow, and the fields of grain 
grew close to its edge, without the protection of a fence 
of any description. We were followed the entire dis- 
tance by racing, panting children; the numbers being 
constantly re-enforced from the wayside houses, as the 



1 2 AFTERMA TH. 

first weakened in the chase. All held up to our view 
flowers freshly gathered from the field once covered 
with the dead and dying. The bouquets were in them- 
selves of little worth; but "because of their importu- 
nity," the sturdy beggars often received the coveted 
penny, and the faded flowers exchanged hands. 

The Mound of the Lion is a conspicuous landmark, 
as the ground was levelled in all directions to furnish 
material for this grand Belgian monument. Upon this 
earth pedestal, two hundred feet high, stands a lion, at 
that distance appearing of ordinary size, though in real- 
ity his proportions are colossal. This immense creature 
weighs thirty tons, and was cast from the metal of 
the captured French cannon. From the platform where 
the lion stands, an uninterrupted view is obtained of the 
extensive plain ; but as no traces of the renowned strug- 
gle remain, in lieu of ascending the three hundred steps 
leading to the summit, I reserved my strength for sight- 
seeing that I was better able to appreciate. Upon the 
lowered portion of the ground are two monuments ; one 
to the memory of the Hanoverian guards, the other a pil- 
lar inscribed to Col. Gordon. I hope everybody knows 
all about the fame, as well as the rank and name of this 
gallant gentleman, as assuredly I do not. 

La Haye Sainte, or the cottage of that name, is still 
an object of interest ; standing with its iron-barred win- 
dows, as on that memorable day when it was so bravely 
held by the soldiers of the German legion. It has but one 
story, with high roof, and two rows of dormer-windows. 

We stopped at the Hotel de Musee, which, as its name 
might suggest, is more museum' than hotel. Here was 



PARIS TO BRUSSELS. 13 

an opportunity for purchasing relics of the battle ; but 
without satisfactory evidence of their genuineness, a 
button, bullet, or even a rusty bayonet would possess 
but slight value. Photographs were gladly purchased 
from the old lady in charge, "niece of the late Ser- 
geant-Major Cotton," as she repeatedly introduced her- 
self. Her conversational powers were marvellous, and 
the most extraordinary statements were delivered with 
a volubility as pronounced as that of "the original and 
only Mrs. Jarley." 

Standing upon a spot of such world-wide fame, I was 
somewhat surprised at not feeling the degree of senti- 
ment expected. But it requires a great stretch of the 
imagination to reconcile the present scene with the 
ideal which has come down to us with all the stirring 
associations connected with war. Strife and bloodshed 
seemed far removed from that peaceful scene : a land- 
scape dotted with quiet homes and cultivated farms, 
whose fertile fields, rich with luxuriant crops, brought 
to mind the thought fully expressed in the line : — 

" How that red rain hath made the harvest grow ! " 

With SO little remaining to tell of the memorable 
struggle, it is difficult to realize the slaughter of the 
day, as its records are given in history. It is only in 
retrospect that the blooming fields stand out vividly 
as — 

" The grave of France, the deadly Waterloo." 

We returned to our hotel in time to avoid a heavy 
rain, and also in season to participate in that most en- 
joyable of repasts, table d'hote, with its eleven courses 



14 AFTERMATH. 

of unsatisfactory nothings ; after which, with water- 
proofs and umbrellas, we went out upon the street, as 
time was quite too valuable to be idled away on account 
of any ordinary storm. 

We visited the business part of the city, with partic- 
ular reference to seeing the shops where lace was a 
specialty. Although these stores were usually very 
small, undoubtedly many of them were owned by large 
lace manufacturers, as an exceedingly limited space 
would suffice for a valuable amount of the delicate 
fabric. Of late years, owing to improvements in man- 
ufacturing, Brussels lace is much less expensive ; that 
is, the variety called point ct V aiguille, which is made 
with a needle, the woven leaves and flowers being 
sewn upon the Brussels net like applique. It is 
estimated that 130,000 women are employed in this 
industry in Belgium. In the old and genuine Brussels 
lace, where countless threads, wound upon bobbins, 
must be twisted over a network of pins, forming an 
elaborate pattern, it is necesary to commence to learn 
in early childhood in order to acquire any degree of 
dexterity in manipulating the numerous threads which 
make up the intricate design, I think that a knowledge 
of the tedious process, and the: length of time required 
for every yard, would prevent us from murmuring at the 
seemingly high prices demanded for the dainty webs 
which all ladies so highly prize. I have no means of 
ascertaining what proportion of my countrywomen are 
strong enough to gaze untempted upon the enticing dis- 
plays of the fairy-like productions of Brussels; but I 
imagine that many gladly become the possessors of 



PARIS TO BRUSSELS. 1$ 

some quantity of these rare combinations of delicacy 
and strength. Lace can be bought there at about one 
third the amount required at home, the patterns and 
quahty being unrivalled. This estimate does not in- 
clude the duty which all patriotic American citizens so 
cheerfully pay upon all imported goods. 

Upon several of the principal streets are long cov- 
ered galleries, which were brilliantly lighted and filled 
with a variety of goods tastefully displayed. These 
arcades form very attractive promenades during the 
evening, and are thoroughly patronized at any hour 
during damp or rainy weather. 

We spent Sunday in Brussels, and like all good 
Americans went to church ; it was called the English 
Church, and no one could doubt the accuracy of the 
naming after a glance at the congregation. The morn- 
ing service was intoned in a sing-song, monotonous way, 
more soporific than devotional in its effect. Later in 
the day, a drive seemed essential to counteract the wea- 
riness of the morning; but not to shock too severely 
the orthodoxy of home friends, I will add, that as our 
cocker v^-Si^ either unwilling or unable to induce his steed 
to vary from a rate of speed one remove from a walk, — 
the funereal pace was not conducive to undue hilarity. 
The very leisurely manner in which we drove along the 
handsome boulevards and through the pleasant park — 
once a portion of the forest of Soignes — was not out 
of harmony with a strict observance of the Sabbath, 
although it afforded an opportunity for a parting glance 
at the Belgian capital. 



i6 



AFTERMA TH. 



II. 

ANTWERP, 
" Rich with the spoils of time." 

Antwerp, seen in the early morning hours, had an 
appearance of quiet stateliness, with its broad, hand- 
some streets, large squares, and substantial buildings of 
curious architecture, which are all characteristic of the 
city, which once boasted a wonderful commerce, and is 
still rich and proud. 

Notwithstanding Antwerp has lost its prestige of 
five centuries ago, when it was considered the most 
wealthy and prosperous city on the Continent, it is yet 
a marvel of enterprise and activity when its vicissitudes 
are taken into account. When Venice, Nuremberg, and 
other cities of mediceval renown were sinking rapidly 
into decay, Antwerp attained the height of its prosper- 
ity, and with each passing year grew more worthy of the 
name given for a century before its downfall, " Dives 
Antwerpia." 

Of the succession of reverses which resulted so dis- 
astrously for Antwerp, it is only necessary to allude to 
two or three. First was the violent outbreak of the 
Iconoclasts in 1566, when the city was the scene of mad 
confusion, riot, and bloodshed ; suffering perhaps more 
severely than any other of the towns visited in that 
and adjacent provinces. Ten years later, it was pil- 



ANTWERP. ly 

laged by the Spanish soldiery, who, with characteristic 
cruelty, used unsparingly both fire and sword, putting 
to death thousands of the helpless inhabitants. Another 
decade brought the memorable siege, conducted by the 
powerful Alexander, Prince of Parma, which lasted for 
fourteen months ; then, dispirited Antwerp made over- 
tures to. the Spanish government, gladly accepting peace 
at their own terms. It seemed impossible for the city 
to recover from that blow, which for so long a period of 
time had prostrated every energy ; to still further reduce 
their ability, their shipping interests and their entire 
foreign trade suffered greatly through the intrigues of 
their formidable rivals, the Dutch. Napoleon materially 
aided them in the re-establishment of their commercial 
interests, and for a time a new era of prosperity dawned 
upon Antwerp, only to be again entirely overthrown 
by the unfortunate revolt of 1830. 

Slowly recovering from this series of disasters, it has 
only been within the last twenty-five years that its com- 
mercial and maritime importance has been fully con- 
firmed ; at present, borne upon the high tide of success, 
Antwerp again ranks among the important cities of 
Europe. 

Situated upon the banks of the Schelde, at that point 
deep and wide, it is the principal seaport of the king- 
dom. The quays constructed by Napoleon the Great, 
the additional ones of later years, and others projected, 
have been of invaluable aid in giving to Antwerp a posi- 
tion among the maritime cities of the world, and are 
convincing proofs that its wealth and prosperity are not 
entirely matters of history. 



lo AFTERMATH. 

Here, as in Brussels, the old ramparts have been 
utilized for boulevards ; but the city is yet strongly for- 
tified, and contains the chief arsenal of the kingdom. 

The style of the ancient dwellings is very peculiar. 
They are considered to be genuine specimens of domes- 
tic architecture during the Middle Ages. The roofs 
are very steep and high, with rows of dormer-windows ; 
three and four were quite frequently seen, while in one 
instance I counted six, and in another seven tiers. At 
the corners of the narrow, crooked streets, in the old, 
unchanged part of the city, are often placed quaint 
shrines ; each one holds an image of the Madonna or 
one of the saints, which is sometimes almost covered 
with offerings of withered flowers. Such little peculiar- 
ities, so unlike anything seen at home, quickly attract 
the notice of a stranger, and time is required in order 
to become familiar with such novel sights. 

Only a few hours could be given to Antwerp ; the 
principal attractions being the cathedral, with its mag- 
nificent spire and fine paintings, and the museum, whose 
choice collection is said to admirably represent the Flem- 
ish school of different periods. 

For centuries, Cologne and Antwerp have contended 
for the honor of having been the birthplace of the 
greatest of the Belgian painters; latterly, these claims 
have been renounced in favor of the little German vil- 
lage of Seigen. There, without doubt, Rubens was 
born, and there his early childhood was passed. After 
the death of his father, his mother removed with him 
to Antwerp, the home of the Rubens family, where he 
was educated, lived, and died. Although many years of 



ANTWERP. 19 

his life were spent in foreign lands, yet after he was 
knighted by Charles I. of England and ennobled by 
Philip IV. of Spain, he returned to his old home, where 
he continued to live in great magnificence. His house, 
designed by himself, yet stands, fronting upon one of 
the small squares of the city; though not of grand 
dimensions, it has Corinthian columns, and is richly 
decorated. In this house was the extensive and very 
valuable collection, including every variety of art, much 
of which he had collected during his foreign travels. 
On the top of the house stands his bust, and a tablet 
records the fact that there the illustrious painter lived 
and died. It is impossible for one to make even the 
briefest visit to this city without being in some degree 
impressed with the idea of the influence which Rubens 
exerted upon the time in which he lived, and which is 
still felt in his works which live after him. 

In the church of St. Jacques, abounding in beautiful 
sculpture, are private chapels belonging to the wealthi- 
est and most distinguished families of Antwerp ; among 
them is the Rubens chapel, where the family are buried. 
The altar-piece is a fine work, designed by Peter Paul 
himself ; the paintings were executed by his own hand, 
the ornamental carving and sculptured figures being the 
work of an artist friend. 

The cathedral of Notre Dame is within the limits of 
the old city, not far from the river, and amidst sur- 
roundings that are small and mean. It is a grand 
specimen of Gothic architecture, and has the distinc- 
tion of being the only church in Europe having six 
aisles. Its proportions rival those of the great Italian 



20 AFTERMA Til. 

cathedrals; its dimensions being two hundred and fifty 
by five hundred feet. This church was comparatively 
new at the time of the raid by the Iconoclasts, and was 
the object on which they vented their deepest rage. In 
its great size, and with seventy altars, it was, with the 
single exception of St. Peter's, the largest and most 
magnificent church in Christendom. It was shamefully 
despoiled, and those Calvinistic zealots were guilty of 
excesses which should have made a pagan blush. 

Only one of its projected towers has been completed ; 
a graceful and elaborate open spire, more than four hun- 
dred feet high. This mass of finely wrought stone has 
been the admiration of many generations ; and although 
modern architects have ventured to criticise the want 
of harmony in its proportions, or rather in some of the 
minute details of this lofty pinnacle, yet in the eyes of 
an unprofessional observer it does not even require its 
renown of centuries to cause it to appear a work of 
wondrous beauty. 

In wandering through the church, its valuable paint- 
ings are suggested by the green drapery seen at inter- 
vals upon the walls. Under the magic influence of a 
fee, these are promptly drawn aside by the sacristan, 
during the hours when there is no service. Among its 
numerous paintings, the church possesses three of the 
most celebrated pictures by Rubens : the Descent from 
the Cross, the Elevation of the Cross, and the Assump- 
tion. The former is undoubtedly the most familiar, 
from photographs and engravings, and is magnificent. 
The figures introduced are given with such a marvellous 
fidelity to nature that one is moved to tender pity at 



ANTWERP. 2 1 

the sad sight. This famous masterpiece is a winged 
picture : the interior designs are the Salutation, and 
Presentation in the Temple ; the exterior, St. Christo- 
pher carrying the infant Saviour, and a hermit. 

The church contains many fine monuments, ancient 
and modern stained-glass windows, rare specimens of 
wood carving, and paintings of recent date, as well as 
those of medicEval times. In rather an obscure part of 
the church there hangs against one of the pillars a 
small painting upon white marble, which is very beauti- 
ful. It is a head of Christ, and was for a long time 
accredited to Leonardo da Vinci, but is now supposed to 
be the work of some unknown Flemish copyist, though 
taken from the Christ in the Last Supper, by Vinci. 

A little one side of the principal portal of the cathe- 
dral is an old well, protected by a canopy of very elab- 
orate design, which shows the wonderful skill of Ouen- 
tin Matsys, the blacksmith-painter. Of the many who 
go there daily to draw water, probably few think of the 
exquisite delicacy of curb and cover ; but the traveller 
from a land where elegantly wrought canopies for street 
wells are unknown, looks with charmed eyes upon this 
perfection of grace and beauty. Our wonder increases 
on learning that the tradition is that it was made as the 
result of a wager with a fellow-workman, from bar iron, 
and with only the ordinary tools of a blacksmith. How- 
ever much or little truth there may be in the legend, 
the cover is there, and it is not disputed that it was 
made by Matsys. 

Four perpendicular bars of iron rise from the corners 
of the curb, midway upon them are small statues, and 



22 AFTERMATH. 

from them, in graceful curves, arches spring, and meet- 
ing above, form a pedestal for the figure of the patron 
saint of Antwerp ; this mythical hero, Salvius Brabo, 
appears in full knightly armor, although a pygmy in 
stature. The shafts and arches are covered with 
twining stems, clustering flowers, and clinging ten- 
drils. Such a display of genius indicated a born 
artist ; measures were taken by which he was enabled 
to cultivate his talent ; wood carving was his next step, 
and painting soon followed. 

The museum, with its seven hundred pictures by 
painters of note, — such as Holbein, Rubens, Rem- 
brandt, Van Dyck, Jordaens, Matsys, Teniers, and 
others, — would require days instead of hours for one 
to appreciate their beauties, or feel qualified to allude 
to them in other than the most general terms. 



HOLLAND. 23 



III. 



HOLLAND. 



" A land that lies at anchor and is moored, 
In which they do not live but go aboard." 

Leaving Antwerp in the gloom of a pouring rain did 
not seem a very auspicious commencement of a jour- 
ney into a land where there was " water, water every- 
where." 

Although it was the middle of August, there was the 
freshness of May upon every leaf and blade of grass ; 
this verdure and bloom made the country appear par- 
ticularly beautiful, and the ride was thoroughly enjoy- 
able. The time passed so quickly that I was surprised 
when the sight of the level reaches of land, the great 
and lesser windmills, canals, ditches, peculiar costumes, 
and a prevailing quaintness indicated that we were leav- 
ing the lowlands proper, and nearing the hollow-land. 

The houses were quite uniform in their appearance, 
usually built of brick, with peaked roof and overhang- 
ing eaves. Near each farm-house was the large, red- 
roofed barn, its size suggesting anticipations of a rich 
harvest. Its seemingly disproportionate dimensions 
are accounted for by the fact that here all that per- 
tains to a farm — stock, tools, and crops — is always 
housed under one roof. Close at hand were carefully 
cultivated gardens with beds of showy flowers, and 



24 AFTERMATH. 

generally a clump of trees or hedge-like row. One 
noticeable peculiarity of the latter was that they inva- 
riably leaned in one direction, owing, I suppose, to the 
prevailing western winds sweeping across the level 
lands. Many of the canals and even the lesser ditches 
are bordered by trees, less valued for their shade than 
the useful purpose they serve in materially strengthen- 
ing the banks by means of their interlacing roots and 
fibres. I noticed among the more common varieties 
the willow and poplar; in fact, the willow is extensively 
cultivated for its boughs, which are used to repair banks 
and dikes. 

The railroads throughout Holland are built upon em- 
bankments, affording an opportunity for one to look 
down and across the well-tilled farms, only divided by 
the canals and lines of trees. Upon these canals, as 
far as the eye can reach, one sees at intervals the 
broad arms of the windmills, doing their ceaseless work 
among the grazing lands and growing grain. Herds of 
sleek, well-fed cattle, all black and white in some com- 
bination, but never with other color, are roaming the 
rich pasture lands. 

" Wide on the fertile flats were seen 
Plentiful pastures, lush and green, 
Where contentedly used to browse 
Soft-eyed oxen and silky cows ; 
Windmills whistled and whirled all day, 
Cheerily labored and called it play." 

Windmills are one of the constantly recurring fea- 
tures of a Holland landscape ; while made to serve every 
purpose for which power is employed, yet their princi- 



HOLLAND. 25 

pal and most important office is to pump the superflu- 
ous water from the lowlands into the canals, which convey 
it to the sea. The sails or arms of the most powerful 
ones are often sixty feet long, though the majority are 
probably not half that length. In travelling through 
Holland, whichever way you may glance, there will be 
visible from a half-dozen to a score of these sturdy 
laborers. 

The lower story is of brick or stone, and usually 
occupied as a dwelling by the family of the man in 
charge ; above that portion rises a sloping structure 
having openings at intervals, and topped by a roof or 
hood. The entire surface above the brick is frequently 
covered with a straw thatch. 

The work of the windmill is so inexpensively per- 
formed that the smallest farmer may employ one to 
remove the overflow from his bit of land, the ordinary 
mechanic seek its aid in lieu of more extravagant help, 
and the largest manufacturer subject to his will all the 
might and power hidden within the builded giant, so 
forceful and untiring in its labors. 

Societies yet exist, founded centuries ago, whose busi. 
ness it is to manage these water mills and care for the 
dikes ; in the discharge of these duties they are pro- 
tected by stringent laws and an enlightened public 
opinion. As the safety of the entire kingdom depends 
upon the perfect condition of the dikes, an injury to one 
is accounted a crime, and is punished according to the 
degree of the offence, by a fine, imprisonment, or in 
some aggravated cases by death. The existence of 
Holland as a nation is alone due to the unceasing 



26 AFTERMATH. 

Struggle of its people to prevent the long-baffled waves 
from sweeping over the low-lying cities, and thus re- 
claiming that which has been so laboriously wrested 
from the domain of the sea. Constant vigilance is re- 
quired, thoughtful care must be exercised, sea changes 
must be guarded against, as some slight obstruction 
may turn the rushing tide against a dike, when means 
to arrest the inroad must be at hand and promptly ap- 
plied. Sometimes willow boughs suffice ; at others 
rows of stakes are required, and frequently a wall of 
stone must be built. 

Patience and ingenuity are taxed to their utmost, as 
they desire not alone to keep the land already won, but 
to gain more little by little from the aggressive sea. 
The motto of Holland, " Je maintaindrai,'^ is the key- 
note of the energetic watchfulness that has for centu- 
ries held at bay the restless waves. It is necessary to 
see this country before on,e can fully appreciate the 
pertinence of the reply so often made to a request for 
news, "The Dutch have taken Holland"; which is too 
literally true to be a jest. 

It is frequently said that Holland became commercial 
from necessity, as where originally there was but mud 
and water, everything must be imported, — grain, fruit, 
stone, and even fuel. The former is now extensively 
raised, while the peat bogs give employment to thou- 
sands of peasants, and furnish fuel for most domestic 
uses. The narrow black strips spread out to dry, or 
piled like cord-wood, are a common sight throughout 
the country. But the inhabitants of this little kingdom 
have done more than simply build up a commerce ; for 



HOLLAND. 27 

these sturdy countrymen, whose old proverb runs, "God 
made the sea, we made the earth," have even dared to 
say to the former, "Hitherto shalt thou come and no 
farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed," 
and thus in very deed have made for themselves a 
country and a name, and are assuredly entitled to credit 
for all they may claim of indomitable will and persever- 
ance. 

Winds, waves, and grasping neighbors have from 
time to time tested the right of possession with the 
Hollanders: but they have continually piled up their 
ridges of mud, strengthened them with boughs, planted 
willows upon their borders, and driven piles into the 
marshes ; they have placed cities upon those piles, and 
built ships to reach the cities; they have sent out in 
them to the north and the south every superfluous 
article, and imported what they lacked of the neces- 
saries of life, thus originating the commerce which 
later brought wealth and luxury to Holland. 

In all the changes which the centuries brought, war- 
ring or warred against, under whichever of the Euro- 
pean powers existing, whether as kingdom, province, or 
independent, the work never stopped, the zeal of the 
people never waned. Sea walls were built, dikes 
lengthened and strengthened, morasses drained, and 
the whole country slowly reclaimed from a worthless 
marsh, below the sea level, to a land of extraordinary 
fertility, rich in the characteristics of many countries 
where no such incomparable amount of toil has been 
required. 



28 



AFTERMA TH. 



IV. 



THE HAGUE. 

" Ah, what pleasant visions haunt me 

As I gaze upon the sea ! 
All the old romantic legends, 

All my dreams come back to me, 
Till my soul is full of longing 

For the secret of the sea, 
And the heart of the great ocean 

Sends a thrilling pulse through me." 

The Hague, or 'S Gravenhage, meaning the Count's 
hedge, was so called by the early Dutch, owing to its 
having been originally the shooting lodge of the counts 
of Holland, and was for many years the most flourishing 
town in the kingdom, and the favorite residence of the 
nobility and aristocracy. It is still the home of some 
families of the nobility, the government officials, repre- 
sentatives from the army and navy, and great numbers 
of retired merchants, who have amassed large fortunes 
in foreign trade. 

The handsome avenues, abundantly shaded, and paved 
with brick, the numerous parks and elegant residences, 
give it the appearance of a charming, quiet modern 
city. It is only when we leave the broad streets of the 
modernized town that we can see indications of what 
the Hague might have been in the past centuries. 

There are frequent squares or parks, adorned Vv^ith 
the usual variety. Among the ornamental statues 



THE HAGUE. 29 

attractive and worthy of note, I will mention but one, 
that of Prince William I. This is an equestrian statue, 
and is in front of the king's palace ; upon the pedestal 
are the arms of the various provinces which were under 
his rule. 

The most imposing memorial of all is the grand 
national monument erected in Wilhelm's Park, designed 
to commemorate the restoration of independence to 
Holland and return of her exiled prince. It is a mas- 
sive column, upon which stands a female figure ; in one 
hand is a banner, the other grasps a handful of arrows, 
and the lion of the Netherlands sits at her feet. The 
pedestal is covered with bronze figures of distinguished 
citizens, and reliefs illustrating events of historical 
interest. 

The museum at the Hague contains among the cele- 
brated pictures that fill its halls two of especial note : 
the Young Bull, by Paul Potter, and Rembrandt's 
Anatomy. The former, with cow, several sheep, and 
the herdsman, all the figures being life-size, is so true 
to nature that you are not surprised at seeing flies on 
and about the animals, while the birds that soar above 
only add to the delusion, making the picture seem like 
a living reality. 

The Anatomy, although shockingly realistic at first 
sight, possesses an unaccountable attraction ; you for- 
get the presence of the dead in the charm of studying 
the serious and attentive faces of the eight members of 
the Surgeons' Guild, listening to the lecturer, Nicholas 
Tulp, as he proceeds to dissect the arm of the subject 
before him. In the group surrounding, every detail of 



3'^ AFTERMATH. 

the dress is perfect. Prof. Tulp wears a cloak, and 
wide turned-down collar of lace, and a broad-brimmed 
soft hat. The others are bareheaded, dressed in black, 
most of them in velvet ; all wear broad collars of lace 
or embroidery, save one, who has the wide, full ruff. It 
gives one an accurate idea of the dress of a Holland 
gentleman in the seventeenth century. No one can 
for a moment doubt that each face in the picture is a 
portrait, so admirably are the different expressions 
portrayed. 

There are landscapes by Wouvermans, hunting scenes 
by Snyder, domestic and convivial scenes by Jan Steen, 
and various styles by other noted artists, the mention 
of whose names would be an assurance of a rare treat 
to the lover of art who could see this collection ; but 
among the number and variety, I readily selected the 
one which appeared to me the gem of the whole. This 
is a small picture by Gerard Douw, called " The Young 
Housekeeper." The young mother in her grace and 
beauty, the smiling infant, and the interested domestic, 
form an effective group; and painted with the wonder- 
ful skill displayed by that artist in arranging the grada- 
tions of color, seems to lack no element of exquisite 
beauty. 

The portraits by Rembrandt, Holbein, and Diirer are 
so true in their delineations that one feels as if he might 
have known the originals in some indefinite past time, 
and that each is a perfect likeness. 

At the Hague there are peculiarities in architecture, 
customs, and costumes which are continual reminders 
that you are in a foreign land. You are conscious of 



THE HAGUE. 31 

the strangeness of your own attire ; your inability to 
understand the spoken language becomes almost pain- 
ful ; you envy the shouting urchin upon the street, who 
is able to communicate with his playmates, though it 
may be a criticism upon the peculiarities in your per- 
sonal appearance ; and you are tempted to wonder how 
it is that the children are able to understand the strange, 
guttural sounds made by their mothers : in fact, if you 
were entirely alone, the experience would undoubtedly 
prove forlorn as well as novel. 

The houses stand directly upon the paved footway, 
and in all of those belonging to the better class it is 
customary to have small mirrors attached on either side 
of one or more windows, at a certain angle, which gives 
the inmates the best opportunity to view the passers- 
by, without themselves being seen ; they also avoid any 
loss of time, which is undoubtedly a consideration among 
the busy housewives. This custom appeared to be uni- 
versal in the different towns of the Netherlands, and 
seemed eminently appropriate in a country where idle- 
ness is accounted a crime, and where even the phrase 
"idle as the wind " would be most decidedly misapplied. 

The women wear very wonderful head-dresses, which 
I hardly know how to describe. First is a close-fitting, 
black-silk cap, entirely covering the head, no hair being 
visible ; over this is cither a skull-cap or broad band of 
silver, which projects at the temples. That is the sim- 
ple form ; but for dress occasions, huge ornaments of 
embossed metal, or filigree, with settings of different 
stones, are attached to the projections and dangle to 
the chin. There is still another layer, usually a cap of 



32 AFTERMATH. 

tamboured lace, through which the shining band can be 
distinctly seen. Many of these ornaments are heir- 
looms, and valued accordingly; they can be purchased 
for a sum varying from fifty dollars to triple that amount, 
according to the material. They are never worn of any 
cheaper metal than silver, even by the poorest peasant 
women. 

Some of the younger ones that I saw, and fancied 
that they might be the belles of their country homes, 
wore a head covering of lace, with a long cape and 
wings at the sides ; this was secured at the very edge 
of the forehead by showy ornaments or pins of gold, 
the glistening band showing beneath, and spiral coils, 
profusely adorned, hung from the blinders at the tem- 
ples. This is a very important fashion throughout the 
provinces of Holland; and though there are local styles 
and patterns for these ornaments, there is a similarity 
in the general design. 

The remainder of the costume would be equally novel 
to a stranger : a full-waisted and short-skirted dress, 
the invariable white neckerchief, a voluminous black- 
silk apron, and several strings of red beads about the 
neck, with rings upon every finger. 

Scheveningen, the fashionable watering-place of Hol- 
land, is but three miles from the Hague; you can choose 
your method of reaching that point, as there is a canal, 
a tramway, and a smooth " klinker " road. Our choice 
was the latter, and soon leaving the city, we were driv- 
ing through the pleasant Wilhelm's Park ; there were 
delightful walks and long drives through avenues 
shaded by fine old oaks, which had escaped the 



THE HAGUE. 33 

hand of the pruner. Nature having had so Httle to 
do with making Holland, the native citizen appears to 
have an idea that he can improve upon any of her 
works. Accordingly, the shrubs and trees are fre- 
quently seen trimmed into any form but the one 
which they would naturally assume ; therefore the 
omission of artistic gardening is quickly noticed, and 
the view becomes doubly charming. There were fre- 
quent openings through the trees, which afforded 
glimpses of delightful country seats, with their vel- 
vety lawns and parterres of brightly blooming flowers. 

The village of Scheveningen is inhabited by fisher- 
men, and lies behind a lofty dune, which shelters it 
from the sea. Dunes or downs are the line of sand- 
hills formed upon the coast by the action of wind and 
tide ; they vary in height from thirty to one hundred 
feet. On the landward side the ascent is very gradual, 
and we had passed the village and were upon the sum- 
mit of the dune before I had realized our proximity to 
the water; only a long stretch of white sand, and then 
the North Sea. The large hotels, with their ample 
porches, had a very familiar appearance, quite like any 
other seaside resort ; the only perceptible difference, in 
a hasty view of the scene as a whole, being the lines of 
little willow bath-houses on wheels. The day was 
unpleasant, and the beach was wholly deserted ; the 
boundless expanse of water looked cold and gray ; the 
waves rolled in with a grand swell, and broke upon 
the sands with a sullen and monotonous roar. 

Returning as we went, by the pleasant Scheveningen 
wood, we met scores of the peasant and fish women, on 
3 



34 AFTERMATH. 

their way home from market, carrying their empty 
baskets, and sturdily trudging, one behind another, 
along the borders of the canal or in the wooded paths. 
These women were stout and coarse in figure, mascu- 
line in their appearance, and wore the ordinary costume 
of their class, — a striped or plaid woollen petticoat, the 
dress skirt of the same material, and turned back to the 
waist, which was usually of another shade and texture ; 
plaid kerchief, and high poke bonnet. Beneath showed 
the frilled border of the close cap, and the ornamental 
band with rosette finish at the temples, the pendants 
being undoubtedly reserved for state occasions. The 
brawny, muscular arms were bared above the elbow, 
and a long pannier was strapped upon the shoulders. 
Another might follow wearing a short red cloak and 
very broad-brimmed hat, as in her case an immense flat 
basket was balanced upon her head. All wore the 
heavy wooden shoes, which clattered loudly at every 
step. 

Another special attraction of the Hague is a royal 
villa, called the " House in the Wood." It was erected 
by the widow of Prince Frederick Henry of Orange, in 
memory of her husband. It is but two miles from the 
Hague, and is occupied by the royal family during the 
summer. Its exterior is plain and unpretentious; but 
the different rooms shown to visitors are unique in their 
design and very interesting. The one designated as 
the Orange Saloon is really the memorial. It is literally 
filled with paintings, representing real or imaginary 
events in the life of the prince ; it is effectively lighted 
from above ; the walls are fifty feet high, the upper por- 



THE HAGUE. 35 

tion being wood, the lower finished with canvas. The 
principal wall is entirely occupied by a painting, which 
in an allegorical manner represents the young prince 
triumphing over sickness, vice, and all the temptations 
and follies of youth. 

The Japanese Room was a great curiosity, everything 
in the furnishings being in strict accord with that style. 
The walls were covered with heavy white silk, arranged 
in panels, each one being outlined with black and gold 
lacquer ; upon those panels, birds, flowers, insects, and 
characteristic figures were wrought in the most brilliant 
colors and exquisite manner. The chairs, sofas, and 
tables were equally elegant and curious. A number of 
delicate and highly finished cabinets contained rare arti- 
cles of great value. 

The Chinese Room was similar in design, but very 
unlike in effect, everything there having come from 
China ; one of the curiosities being some tapestry made 
of rice paper, in the seventeenth century. Among 
the smaller articles were choice antiques, and a collec- 
tion of miniatures of celebrities. 

The dining-room was decorated in grisailles, produ- 
cing a perfect illusion of bas-reliefs. 

At this early commencement of a brief Continental 
tour, I found myself looking for that marvel among em- 
ployes, — 

" Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune." 

It. is needless to say that the mythical personage has 
not yet been discovered, as a brief recital of Hague ex- 
perience will abundantly prove. When about to leave 



3" AFTERMATH. 

for Amsterdam, eight servants were drawn up in line at 
the door of the hotel, evidently with "great expecta- 
tions." As our extremely limited acquaintance did not 
seem to warrant a parting gift to the entire corps, fees 
were only given to those who had rendered actual ser- 
vice, although that item had been once amply paid in 
the regular bill. Apparently this method was not sat- 
isfactory to i\\Q portier, but his revenge was well planned 
and very promptly executed. He ordered us to be 
driven to the wrong station, thus delaying our departure 
for six hours. The recital of this incident is designed 
as a gratuitous advertisement for the Paulez House. 



AMSTERDAM. 37 



V. 



AMSTERDAM. 

" Where the Ziiyder Zee of the Netherlands 
Tosses its billows and frets its sands, 
Tosses and threatens and vainly strikes 
Against the massive, defiant dikes, 
A wonderful city used to stand, 
First in commerce in all the land ; 
Stately, opulent, fair, and brave, 
With the gathered riches of earth and wave." 

We reached this city during the evening, and went 
at once to the highly recommended hotel, Cafe Neuf. 
Unfortunately, we could not be received there, and were 
obliged to seek accommodations elsewhere. This dis- 
appointment was not without some compensation, as 
our. long drive afforded an opportunity to see many fine 
streets, lined with stately business blocks, and also 
appreciate the fact that under the rays of combined gas 
and moonlight, even prosaic canals may become decid- 
edly picturesque, with their rows of elms on either side 
and their numerous bridges. This novel feature, and 
the brilliantly illuminated shops, thronged with people, 
who also crowded the streets, united to give a very 
pleasing first impression of Amsterdam. 

"The Old Bible House" hospitably received the 
weary traveller, and my last waking thought was specu- 
lative regarding the name of the hotel. I solved the 
mystery the following day, and though 



38 AFTERMATH. 

" I cannot tell how the truth may be, 
I say the tale as 't was said to me." 

The first Bible published in Amsterdam was printed 
in this very house by an ancestor of the present pro- 
prietor, and is said to be the oldest whole copy extant. 
The precious book — I use the adjective in the sense of 
its value as an advertisement — is carefully preserved in 
the house and proudly exhibited to visitors. It is de- 
cidedly venerable in its appearance, having peculiarities 
in paper, letters, and binding. It bears upon its title- 
page, in Roman numerals, the date MDXLII. 

To anticipate a little, I will add here that on leaving 
the " Old Bible House," there was nothing in the con- 
duct of the servants that indicated that the name of the 
hotel had influenced them to bestow disinterested care 
upon the " stranger within the gates." Early as was 
the hour of our departure, a grand array awaited us in 
the hall, the majority of whom we had not before had 
the pleasure of seeing. Then came an unlooked-for 
experience in foreign money, which, very annoying at 
the time, is rather amusing in retrospect. Florins and 
stivers had unaccountably melted away, and the portier 
indignantly refused to accept other coin ; at last, in his 
rage, threatening to retain the baggage of the party. 
The conversation was conducted partially in panto-' 
mime, though broken French, low Dutch, and high , 
English resounded in the morning air. The affair 
looked serious : no time must be lost if we would reach 
the station at the desired moment, and no Holland 
money was to be had ; but a display of firmness carried 
the day, and we drove away. My last sight of the out- 



AMSTERDAM. . 39 

raged portier showed him gesticulating wildly as he 
exhibited the hated French coin to the others in wait- 
ing, who were doubtless speculating as to their share of 
the spoil. I am well aware that some over-nice people 
object to anything being said upon the subject of fees ; 
but the money question and the service question are 
problems that require much wisdom and much currency 
to judiciously settle, anywhere across the water. Even 
if one possessed the purse of Fortunatus, the imposition 
to which he is constantly subjected would be none the 
less humiliating to his self-respect. Although the expe- 
rience in each place was unique, I shall not allude to 
the annoyance often, but may occasionally be tempted to 
speak of the unjust exactions for services never ren- 
dered. 

Although I knew, in a general way, that Amsterdam 
was one of the greatest among the commercial cities, and 
the great banking centre of Europe ; that its financial 
relations with various nations were close and extensive; 
that the city first manifested itself to the traveller by 
the closer clustering of its gigantic windmills ; that 
there were forests of masts, which rose, brown and 
bare, above the housetops, whose quaint, gabled fronts 
projected far beyond the foundations, — these and many 
more items which I had gleaned were all facts, yet 
when once within the city, I found that my knowledge 
was so exceedingly general that every individual par- 
ticular was a surprise. 

As most writers quote what Erasmus said, and what 
Butler wrote, invariably call Holland a " geographical 
paradox," and Amsterdam the "Venice of the North," 



40 AFTERMA TH. 

and employ other stereotyped phrases to describe the 
peculiarities of this country, I will only venture to say 
that the latter is not the title I should apply to this 
powerful city ; although, without doubt, it is as strange 
in all its characteristics as is the romantic "Bride of 
the Adriatic." 

Numerous canals divide the city into ninety islands, 
which are connected by more than three hundred 
bridges of iron, wood, or stone, and so constructed 
as to admit the passage of boats adapted for inland 
navigation. Piles, forty and fifty feet long, are driven 
through the soft morass to the firmer soil beneath, and 
upon these the city is founded. Many of the buildings 
are far from perpendicular, owing to the irregular set- 
tling of the piles ; unsafe as these indications seem, 
accidents rarely occur, though many years ago a loaded 
corn magazine sank into the mud, crushed by its own 
weight. 

The three principal canals are semicircular in form, 
and have two rows of trees on either side, giving a 
shaded roadway, and also a paved walk close to the 
buildings. 

The houses are tall, built of red brick, and almost 
uniformly stand with gable end towards the street, and 
possess other peculiarities of architecture. Upon some 
of the less important streets, the basements of the 
houses occupied by the better class of inhabitants are 
re-rented to the very poor ; others live entirely upon 
the water, in small houses on the decks of their boats 
As the women here share in the hardest of out-door 
toil, they undoubtedly give material aid in loading and 



AMSTERDAM. 4 1 

unloading the freight, by way of pastime, — when the 
Hghter domestic duties are finished. These canal 
boats are shorter and broader than those in our own 
country ; they carry mast and sail to be used when 
practicable ; sometimes they are poled along, at others 
drawn by horses, and frequently by the women and 
children of the family, aided by the dogs. 

The hulls are either oiled or stained, while the upper 
and ornamental portions are painted a bright blue, red, 
or green ; at the same time, the sail may be white or 
gray, though a more frequent color is a dull red, pro- 
ducing a novel and picturesque effect. 

The traffic upon the canals does not appear to dimin- 
ish the number of horses and all kinds of wheeled vehi- 
cles required. At times, when waiting for a bridge to 
close behind one of the lazily floating boats, there would 
be an accumulation of carts, stages, and carriages, as in 
any of our large cities whose water privilege is not so 
extensive. 

The entire absence of fresh water has been a great 
disadvantage to so large a city ; and difficulties hard to 
overcome stood in the way of even modifying the mis- 
fortune. All of the better houses have reservoirs for 
rain water, and until quite recently the remainder re- 
quired was brought from a distance in barges, and 
retailed at the wharfs. Now the city is abundantly 
supplied with pure water brought in pipes from a reser- 
voir among the dunes in the vicinity of Haarlem, four- 
teen miles away. 

The cleanliness of Holland cities being proverbial, I 
was not prepared for the disagreeable odors existing in 



42 AFTERMA TH. 

Amsterdam. As there is water upon every side of 
everybody, the stagnant water of the canal exhaling 
its odors — not savory, to say the least — beneath the 
windows of the finest residences, as well as in the 
meanest quarter of the city, it may be impossible to 
prevent such a condition of affairs. It is stated that 
the natives are blissfully unconscious of any especial 
properties in the atmosphere, so implicitly do they 
credit the tradition that the incoming and outgoing 
tide removes all impurities. Their faith in this regard 
does not appear to me well grounded ; for I am positive 
that the rain, which fell almost uninterruptedly during 
my stay there, disturbed some quiet nooks that the tide 
had not recently affected. 

The principal building of interest is the Palace, so 
called since its presentation to Louis Bonaparte in iSoS, 
and its occupation by him as a royal residence. Origi- 
nally intended for a state house, all of its embellish- 
ments have reference to its use for that purpose. It 
was built two hundred years ago, and stands upon four- 
teen thousand jDiles. Situated in the open market-place, 
crowned by a turreted tower which looms up seventy 
feet above the roof, and without any principal entrance, 
it is in every way unsuitedfor the home of royalty. 
The room designated as the old council chamber is 
rand in its dimensions, being one hundred and twenty 
feet long and ninety feet high. It is incrusted with 
pure Italian marble, and decorated with many flags and 
trophies of the Spanish war. 

The galleries of paintings in Amsterdam are consid- 
ered of inestimable value. The Rijks Museum in the 



AMSTERDAM. 43 

Trippenhuis, which contains over six hundred pictures, 
more than two thirds being by Dutch masters, is con- 
sidered the finest collection in the kingdom. The 
grandest of all is Rembrandt's "Night Watch." This 
is an interpretation of the genius of the great painter, 
in its fulness of conception, gracefulness of detail, and 
combination of rich colors. One cannot see its beau- 
ties through the eyes of another, but it seems well 
worthy of an especial visit to Amsterdam. There were 
others from the same hand, as also works by Paul Pot- 
ter, Teniers, Snyder, Wouvermans, and many more art- 
ists of world-wide fame. Again, one of Gerard Douw's 
small pictures won my warmest admiration. This was 
the "Evening School," justly celebrated for the marvel- 
lous skill displayed by the artist in delineating the 
charming effect of light and shade produced by the 
judicious arrangement of four candles. I trust that no 
one will be wearied by this mention of two pictures 
selected from the grand collection of choice works by 
artists, the study of which would be an unending de- 
light to a connoisseur. 

There are many thousands of Jews in Amsterdam ; 
and as is the iniiversal custom, they form an entirely 
distinct settlement. A drive through the Jews' Quar- 
ter revealed the same degree of gloom, filth, and wretch- 
edness always associated in my mind with the thought 
of the Ghetto. Their homes, shops, and markets are 
simply indescribable. Crooked streets, narrow alleys, 
stagnant canals, heaps of the coarsest merchandise 
exposed upon the open streets for sale, with evidences 
of squalor and extreme poverty on every hand, seemed 



44 AFTERMA TH. 

to furnish all the requisites for a most miserable neigh- 
borhood, where the inhabitants were wretched creatures, 
who appeared to have reached a depth of degradation 
almost inconceivable. 

Going from this place of horrors towards the Zuyder 
Zee, what a contrast was presented ! Forests of mast 
were visible in the distance, as we crossed the solid 
bridges on the route to the immense quays and wonder- 
ful harbor, where the throngs of busy laborers spoke 
only of enterprise and prosperity. There vessels of the 
largest tonnage were loading and unloading ; vast ware- 
houses bore the names of many foreign lands and cities ; 
there were cargoes from every corner of the globe, and 
stacks of valuable goods ready to be sent in different 
directions. 

The general air of industrial activity which prevailed 
was sufficient to convince the most casual observer 
that this kingdom, insignificant in point of area and nat- 
ural advantages, possessed a great maritime and com- 
mercial power. As the " Entrepot Dok " and great 
harbor are marvels of engineering skill, subjects about 
which much has and will be written, I will not attempt 
an impossibility ; that is, to give an idea of the immense 
foreign trade of this country, of which one forms some- 
thing of a conception in a brief visit to the enormous 
docks, where lie at anchor ships from all nations, 
crowded by cargoes of great value, waiting to be redis- 
tributed by the thousands of busy laborers, and loaded 
upon other ships and barges for farther voyaging. 

At the extreme end of one of the cjuays is a tower 
which possesses a romantic interest. It is called the 



AMSTERDAM. 45 

" Criers' Tower," or in Dutch, more expressively, ScJirei- 
jcrstoreii. Formerly, from this point, vessels sailed for 
all parts of the world ; and the tower derived its sug- 
gestive name from the tears of those who there parted 
with their sailor friends. 

For hundreds of years, gem cutting and diamond pol- 
I'shing were almost exclusively monopolized by Amster- 
dam, To-day, the lapidaries of Antwerp are formidable 
rivals, and the honors of this branch of industry must 
also be shared with England. 

There are immense establishments called diamond 
mills, many of them being entirely owned and con- 
trolled by Jews ; and it is estimated that more than ten 
thousand Jews are employed in this branch of industry 
in Amsterdam. It is very interesting to watch the 
process of cutting and polishing, as I had an opportu- 
nity of doing in one of the largest manufactories. The 
building was six stories high, and filled from basement 
to attic with whirring machinery and hosts of busy 
workmen ; all were engaged in some part of the tedious 
process of bringing a diamond from the rough to a per- 
fectly cut and flawless brilliant. This is slow and diffi- 
cult work, requiring a wonderful degree of care and 
exactness. 

Of this we obtain a slight idea on being told that a 
stone of medium size often requires two months of con- 
tinuous labor to bring it to its best condition ; while 
some of the celebrated diamonds of the Old World have 
required as many years. The process is literally 
"diamond cut diamond," as one stone is used upon 
another, each being cemented into a wooden handle. 



46 AFTERMA TH. 

The workmen have their fingers protected by padded 
gloves ; they hold the stones over boxes, which have 
finely perforated metal covers, through which the parti- 
cles fall and are thus preserved. This dust is after- 
wards used upon a plate, which is made to revolve 
rapidly by steam power, and polishes the gem held 
against its surface. I noticed that each workman en- 
gaged in polishing had a watch hanging directly over 
his wheel, every detail of the process being carefully 
watched and accurately timed. 

Should a visitor desire to examine some of the valu- 
able stones, he would be taken into a very small office, 
where, upon a table covered with black velvet, the 
exhibit would be made. In such cases, several are in 
attendance. One package is cautiously removed before 
another is brought forward ; every precaution being 
taken against mishap, and I might add, misappropria- 
tion. 

These poor workmen are intrusted with jewels of 
such great value that a lifetime of labor could not atone 
for the loss of one. On the finishing touches, only 
skilled laborers are employed. Among the hundreds, I 
saw many who, I felt assured, had grown old in the 
service. I fancied that I could read upon their wan, 
spiritless faces the impress of such long-continued, 
monotonous toil, demanding constant anxiety, firm ten- 
sion of nerve and muscle, close eye-work, and the nicest 
calculation in the manipulation of the precious gems. 
Each stone must repay the laborer in part with its con- 
stantly increasing brilliancy, while it mocks with its 
nothingness to him, although of intrinsic worth in its 
peerless beauty. 



AMSTERDAM. 47 

The inhabitants in the immediate vicinity of Amster- 
dam formerly had a high reputation for superior skill 
in bleaching linen, owing in part to some properties 
contained in the water used. Since the use of chemi- 
cals has come into vogue, the especial advantages of 
this part of Holland in that regard have not been so 
apparent. However, the manufacture of linen is still 
extensively carried on, and the large bleaching grounds 
are a frequent and interesting sight. 

" In the moist, green fields outside the town 
The damsels gathered as day went down, 
And lightly spread on the clover blooms 
Brown webs of linen from native looms; 
That the light of day and dew of night 
Might bleach the fabric to snowy white." 

During the entire journey through Holland the same 
general features prevailed, as the routes followed all 
led among the artificially drained lands whose ditch- 
bound fields stretch away to the dikes of the North Sea. 
Everywhere the red-tiled or thatched roofs of the farm- 
houses, the • broad, flat meadows, the grazing herds, 
the busy canals, and the huge, revolving arms of the 
windmills. For the latter the traveller has a profound 
respect, if not affection, by the time he has watched 
their working for several days ; as he then realizes that 
it is their latent power alone that prevents him from 
knowing, by a dearly bought experience, that this coun- 
try lies below the level of the sea. 

The indescribably strange effect produced by the 
mathematical exactness of the boundary ditches, the air 
of quaintness and novelty which characterizes all Hoi- 



48 AFTERMA TH. 

land, make it a most enjoyable place to visit. Al- 
though in my own case the almost incessant rain which 
fell interfered with some plans, and marred for the 
moment some pleasures, yet in retrospect, all that was 
disagreeable is so entirely a thing of the past, that the 
memory of sights and scenes there is utterly devoid 
of gloom, and invites to renewed acquaintance. 



COLOGNE. 49 



VI. 



COLOGNE. 

" What 's in a name ? that which we call a rose, 

By any other name would smell as sweet." — Shakespeare. 

" The river Rhine, it is well known, 
Doth wash your city of Cologne; 
But tell me, nymphs 1 what power divine 
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ? " 

In approaching the city of Cologne, the spires and 
towers are eagerly scanned ; only a glance is required 
to select the cathedral, for that conspicuous landmark is 
the attractive object to tourists in visiting this fortified 
capital of the Rhenish province of Bavaria, the oldest 
town upon the Rhine. 

The history of Cologne really antedates the Christian 
era, as fifty years B. C, Agrippina, the mother of Nero 
induced her husband to found a colony there, which 
received her name. Of the strong walls of that ancient 
settlement some traces still exist. Among the ruins 
have been found sarcophagi, statues, and other remains 
of undoubted Roman origin. 

As in all of the European cities, the new and old 
parts remain quite distinct, and differ greatly in appear- 
ance. While in the newer portion there are broad, 
smoothly paved thoroughfares, in the old the streets 
are very narrow, crooked, with rough stones for pave- 

4 



50 AFTERMA TH. 

ment, and illy drained, are consequently gloomy, and 
abound in "the rankest compound of villanous smells." 
A few walks will suffice to convince the most sceptical 
that the disparaging comments made by Coleridge were 
well grounded. Certainly, if I did not detect "the 
two-and- seventy " distinct odors of which he wrote, it 
was only for lack of time and endurance. 

The manufactories of Cologne are quite numerous, 
thirty of the principal ones within the city proper being 
devoted to the distilling of Cologne water, each manu- 
facturer claiming to alone possess the secret of the 
fabrication of this well-known toilet article. At every 
church door, at your hotel, and upon the street corners 
anxious retailers are stationed, who remind you that 
the place is reached where the genuine article may be 
obtained, and that the firm they represent alone pre- 
pares it according to the original recipe, by the real 
Jean Maria Farina. 

Near one of the churches, a house is pointed out as 
the birthplace of Rubens, which assertion is wholly 
unfounded. Fortunately for the fame of the house, it 
has still another claim to public regard, as it is a well- 
authenticated fact that Marie de Medici died there in 
exile. 

The Rhine is at this point about one fourth of a mile 
wide, and is spanned by a fine iron bridge. A bridge 
of boats also affords easy access to the little town of 
Deutz, on the opposite shore. Of course the town con- 
tains a museum and the usual number of churches, 
which offer attractions to travellers: but be comforted 
by the assurance that as I did not see the former, I 



COLOGNE. 51 

shall have nothing to say about it ; and of the latter, I 
shall mention but two. 

First, the church of St. Ursula, which cannot be 
ignored, since upon the very spot where it now stands, 
according to the tradition, eleven thousand virgins with 
their mistress, the beautiful English princess, were 
basely murdered by the Huns on their return from a 
pilgrimage to Rome. 

The alabaster monument to the sainted Ursula occu- 
pies a conspicuous place in the grim old church, and the 
bones of the numerous martyred fair are artistically 
arranged in grated compartments, distributed through- 
out the building. The caressing manner in which the 
attendant priest handled and introduced the skull of 
Saint this and Sister that was very ludicrous. I could 
only conclude that he recognized the individual by the 
particular style of ornamentation ; as an embossed silver 
cap, gayly embroidered velvet band, or strip of scarlet 
flannel, in many instances, crowned and added a new 
horror to the grinning skull. Naturally, we were 
charmed by the sight of the treasures of inestimable 
worth contained in the golden chamber. It was in- 
tensely gratifying to see the bones of the left foot and 
right arm of St. Ursula ; then the quarts of teeth in a 
deep stone crock, which the obliging priest dipped up 
by handfuls, were pleasantly suggestive. There were 
sundry and divers other relics ; for instance, one of the 
jars which held the miraculous wine at the marriage in 
Cana of Galilee. Considering its years and the long 
distance it had travelled, I felt no surprise on seeing 
that it was slightly damaged. There were also two 



52 AFTERMATH. 

thorns from the Saviour's crown, and a bit of the true 
cross. The few that I have mentioned and many more 
were shown with an air of solemnity as profound as if 
some indisputable dogma of the church was being pro- 
claimed. I am suspicious that the calmness and utter 
lack of enthusiasm with which his most marvellous 
statements were received, must have suggested to his 
mind that he was dealing with heretics, who were sadly 
deficient in reverence for the objects so dear to a 
Romanist. The frequent sight of nails, thorns, frag- 
ments of cloth, and small particles of wood, exhibited as 
true relics of the passion of Christ, soon become abom- 
inations in the eyes of a Protestant. The marvel in- 
creases day by day as we hear the oft-repeated stories, 
how men, who are as intelligent and as well informed as 
the priests appear to be on general topics, can be so 
credulous upon religious subjects. They certainly act 
as if they credited the preposterous stories which they 
gravely tell as historic facts. 

During the twelfth century, when there was so de- 
cided a revival of architectural interest throughout 
Europe, Cologne was not behind her sister cities in 
enthusiasm in this regard. Two centuries later, a 
second era of art development came to her ; then it was 
in the province of painting. 

It was in the height of the first awakening that the 
present cathedral was commenced, in the year 1248. 
The site selected was the place where a church once 
stood, built by Charlemagne during the ninth century, 
which was destroyed by fire. The work upon the 
cathedral progressed slowly, and a century had passed 



COLOGNE. 53 

before any portion was ready for occupancy ; then the 
choir was solemnly consecrated. For another hundred 
years the edifice grew continually, but there followed 
several decades in which there was an entire suspension 
of enthusiasm. Another fresh impulse of zeal caused 
'urther progress to be made, until at the close of the 
fifteenth century, when work was abandoned, and all 
hope of seeing the building completed according to the 
original plans appeared to be relinquished. In fact, 
those plans were lost centuries ago, a small portion 
having been found in Paris within a few years ; proving 
that the later architects worked by faith rather than 
sight. 

Left to itself, the unfinished structure grew more 
and more dilapidated, until the climax of its degrada- 
tion was reached when, in 1796, the French appropriated 
it for a hay magazine, even stabling their horses within 
its sacred walls ; at the same time they aided its further 
destruction by the removal of the leaden roofing. 

The original designer is supposed to have been a 
Meister Gerard, native of a small village near Cologne. 
To substantiate this statement is the fact that in the 
early part of the sixteenth century, the chapter of the 
cathedral made a grant to his descendants in recogni- 
tion of his services. 

The cathedral stands upon a slight eminence, sixty 
feet above the Rhine, upon a portion of the veritable 
camping ground of the Roman soldiery. It is only a 
short distance from the river, and quite near is the 
great Central Railroad station, at which point the tide 
of travel is in full flow; therefore, no time is lost by the 



54 AFTERMA TH. 

traveller entering Cologne either by the Rhine or the 
railway, before he may have a full view of this grand 
mediaeval church. Shall I venture to admit that my 
first feeling was one of disappointment ? The clumsy 
scaffolding still encumbered that portion first visible, 
and greatly marred the effect. However, in driving 
around it, in going to the hotel, it expanded into mag- 
nificent proportions, and rapidly increased in beauty. 

The gigantic towers, which rose so far above the 
inferior surrounding buildings, seemed almost to touch 
the very heaven ; the great portal and imposing fagade 
were flooded by the bright rays of the mid-day sun, 
giving all the magical effect of light and shade, and 
bringing out into bold relief the statues and elaborate 
ornamentation of arches and pillars. The countless 
columns, buttresses, carvings, and reliefs causfed a feel- 
ing of bewilderment ; and it is only by taking time to 
study carefully some small portion of the designs that 
one is able to appreciate, even in a slight degree, the 
perfect harmony of detail, which indicates that one 
grand central idea must have pervaded those centuries 
of toil, and in a mysterious way have been transmitted 
from generation to generation, without losing its sub- 
lime significance. 

Everywhere about the building there is a noticeable 
difference in the color or shade of the blocks of stone, 
showing where the crumbling blocks have been replaced 
by others, fresh irom the hands of the stone cutter. 
Among the workmen are those who have grown gray 
in the service, as following in the footsteps of their 
fathers, they commenced work there as apprentices, 



COLOGNE. 55 

and know no other kind of labor. It is said that two or 
more hundred laborers were constantly employed in 
different parts of the church, but its great size pre- 
vented any knowledge of their presence. Occasionally, 
one would be seen quietly doing his appointed task ; 
and I recollect, on one occasion, noticing several en- 
gaged in putting up a large picture, during the hour of 
service. I was quite as near as were any of the wor- 
shippers, and could see that nails were being driven ; 
but the intervening distance prevented the noise of the 
hammer from being heard. 

For centuries, it seemed as if the old German legend 
which records the compact between the original archi- 
tect and his Satanic Majesty, with the final vow of the 
latter that the church should never be completed, would 
prove true. 

Since I saw the cathedral in its unfinished state, the 
beautiful open-work spires have been added to the huge 
towers, and the whole Catholic world rejoiced when, a 
few months since, there occurred a day of jubilee in 
commemoration of the completion of the wonderful 
Dom. 

The entrance to the north transept is finished in a 
comparatively plain style, the one at the south being 
quite the reverse. This imposing portal is embellished 
with finely wrought statues by Schwanthaler, the Mu- 
nich designer ; it was the gift of the Emperor William, 
and cost half a million of dollars. • 

The west front is the only portion where the original 
design has been perfected. There are the two towers, 
the three entrances ; the central one being the magnifi- 



56 AFTER MA TH. 

cent arched portal, above which is the superb rose win- 
dow. It is claimed that in every detail this fagade ac- 
cords strictly with genuine Gothic architecture of the 
twelfth century. The deeply recessed, pointed arch of 
this elegant doorway is more than ninety feet high, and 
thirty wide ; the side entrances being in symmetrical 
proportion. The traceries, consoles, canopies, and stat- 
ues embrace a great variety, of which no description 
can afford any adequate idea. 

Midway of the central door, which is divided trans- 
versely as well as perpendicularly, upon a massive 
fluted column stands the life-size image of the Virgin 
and Child. Beyond the doors, on either side, but paral- 
lel with the central figure, the Apostles stand in niches. 
Above these the recessed arch is a mass of carving, 
groups, and statues rising tier above tier ; the outside 
having ten rows, which diminish gradually to six. Each 
group or single statue is supported upon an elaborately 
carved pedestal, admirably designed to form a canopy 
for the next lower figure. Within the pediment are 
four groups, the lowest and largest being a representa- 
tion of the Last Supper, filling the entire width: 
Above the arch two Gothic points spring upward; the 
lower is cut in a series of steps, each upholding a sculp- 
tured lion or other device ; in the centre is a colossal 
statue of the Saviour. The second point terminates 
just below the rose window ; within its angle sits the 
enthroned Virgin ; the entire length of the massive 
beams being covered with fretwork and statuary. 

The almost fabulous size of the nave produces an im- 
pressive effect. Clustered columns and sharply pointed 



COLOGNE. 57 

arches combine to form a beautiful perspective ; and 
the noble stained windows of different ages and styles 
give the necessary light in various exquisite shades. 
Some of the glass now in use has been preserved from 
the very earliest churches builded in the city, and the 
colors are rich and dark, although many of the designs 
are so antique as to seem extremely odd, 

" I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze 
With forms of saints and holy men who died, 
Here martyred, and hereafter glorified ; 
And the great rose upon its leaves displays 
Christ's triumph, and the angelic roundelays, 
With splendor upon splendor multiplied." 

There are seven chapels, each with its splendid altar, 
pictures, carvings, and relics. The most interesting 
one is that of the Three Kings ; this is behind the high 
altar, and contains a shrine with fine and curious orna- 
mentation. 

Within this is a gorgeous crystal casket, in which, 
tradition says, rest the remains of Caspar, Melchoir, and 
Balthasar. It is afifirmed that these remains were taken 
to Constantinople by the Empress Plelena, mother of 
Constantine ; later, transferred to Milan ; from thence 
they were brought to Cologne and placed in the old 
cathedral, in 1162; finally obtaining this sumptuous 
mausoleum. Some daring ones have ventured to in- 
quire as to the precise merits of the Three Wise Men, 
and have expressed a desire to know upon what grounds 
is based their claim to adoration by the Romish Church ; 
but it is not wise to question church tradition too 
closely. 



58 AFTERMATH. 

Undoubtedly the golden star which glistens upon 
the topmost pinnacle of the central turreted spire has 
its significance in connection with the legend of the 
Magi. 

" Three kings came riding from far away, — 

Melchoir and Caspar and Balthasar ; 
Tiiree wise men out of the East were they, 
And they travelled by night and they slept by day, 

For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star. 

" So they rode away, and the star stood still, 

The only one in the gray of morn ; 
Yes, it stopped, it stood still of its own free will, 
Right over Bethlehem on the hill. 

The city of David, where Christ was born." 

On the payment of a slight fee, the cover of the 
reliquary will be reverently removed, and the visitor 
will be permitted to look in upon the tops of three 
human skulls, circled with crowns, studded with pre- 
cious stones. I declined the pleasure, as having so 
recently seen the collection of doubtful bones at the 
church of St. Ursula, I was more than satisfied ; I had 
no desire to further tax my very limited stock of credul- 
ity, 

Amid such a lavish display of the beautiful, incon- 
gruities are proportionably noticeable ; and there were 
several altar-pieces and decorations that were strik- 
ingly inappropriate. For instance, in one of the side 
chapels was a sitting statue of Mary, supporting the 
dead Christ. The figure of the Mother was life-size, 
and wore a yellow brocade dress, lace overdress, and 
gilt paper crown. The Son was represented as about 
suitable size for a boy of ten years, but with a full and 
heavy beard. 



COLOGNE. 59 

In a prominent position in the right transept was a 
group in composition, representing the bier of the 
Saviour, with several surrounding figures. The head of 
the one designed fo'r Mary the Mother was crowned 
with a garland of pink roses, and the expression upon 
the face was indescribable ; while poor Mary Magdalen, 
with a coronet of white paper flowers above the discol- 
ored face with its petrified appearance of grief, was an 
incomparable burlesque upon art. Indeed, the tout en- 
semble of the tableau was so irresistibly ludicrous that 
not even the solemn thoughts which should have been 
suggested by the scene, nor my veneration for the grand 
old cathedral, was sufficient to counteract the risible 
effect produced by the sight of that group. I sincerely 
hope that the kind — but not scrupulously clean— brother 
who was curiously regarding our party ascribed my 
emotion to quite a different cause. 

The degree of inappropriateness shown in the major- 
ity of the Romanist churches, in thus mingling the 
common, and even the grotesque, with the sacred and 
beautiful, is incomprehensible to a Protestant. An altar 
of polished marble, with base of artistic bas-reliefs, is 
not enriched by the addition of cotton lace and cheap 
gilding ; waxy-faced saints, with beady eyes, clothed in 
cast-off finery, painfully contrast with tasteful and 
elegant surroundings ; golden candelabra and choice 
paintings do not require wreaths or bouquets of tawdry 
artificial flowers to enhance their effect ; and yet just 
such inconsonant objects intrude upon your notice, and 
for the moment force into the background your enjoy- 
ment of the grace and beauty found in the creations of 
artist and sculptor, which exist upon every hand. 



60 AFTERMA TH. 

Upon this edifice countless sums of money have been 
expended ; and every means, legitimate or otherwise, 
adopted to increase the building fund. It is estimated 
that within the last forty years, five millions of dollars 
have been appropriated to this work. If figures were 
not so largely comparative, it might afford some satis- 
faction to give length, breadth, height, proportions of 
nave, and other measurements ; but I refrain, as such 
an effort would not accomplish the end designed. 

If it were possible for one to imagine an immense 
structure, full pointed Gothic, made up of turrets, but- 
tresses, cornices, canopies, statues, and aught else that 
could add a grace to a masterpiece in stone, then he 
might be able to form a more correct idea of the grand 
Dom at Cologne than mere facts and figures could give. 

In its exquisite sculpture and elaborate finish, it 
seems in very deed fitted for a temple for the Most 
High ; abounding in signs and symbols, types and em- 
blems, it is in full sympathy with the natural desire of 
the loving heart for an outward expression of affection 
and adoration. Commenced at a time when religious 
enthusiasm found its most complete expression in deeds, 
one cannot fail to recognize, in this and other mediaeval 
churches, evidence of deep devotional feeling, which 
manifested itself in these creations of beauty and grand- 
eur. Many generations cheerfully labored upon what 
must have appeared as an endless task, bringing all that 
could be gathered of the taste, wealth, and skill of six 
centuries to consummate the magnificent design. In 
its perfected condition, it stands to-day as a witness 
for all Christendom of the fact of possible achievement, 
even through disaster and discouragement. 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 6 1 



VII. 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 

" Whoe'er would sing the beauteous Rhine, 

Its castled rocks and feudal towers, 
And banks all crowned with royal wine, 

Where reel the joyous festal hours, 
Must wreathe his pen with bacchant grace. 

Distil the sun into his song ; 
With purple joy its moments trace 

And crowned with leaves be gentle, strong ; 
Flow, like its stream, in varied rhyme. 
And gild his verse with spoils of time." 

J. D. Sherwood. 

The windows of the breakfast-room at Hotel de Hol- 
lande, just above the bridge of boats in Cologne, over- 
looked the quay where the "saloon steamer ' Friede' " 
was moored, advertised to go to Mayence that day, a 
journey of fourteen hours. Light goods and merchan- 
dise were being put on board, numerous passengers 
were hurrying thither, and at the moment when the 
confusion seemed to have reached its height we joined 
the number. 

The majority of the passengers were evidently tour- 
ists, some business travellers ; while upon the lower 
deck were the quaintly dressed men, women, and chil- 
dren, whose wooden shoes, odd head covering, and 
appearance generally does not cease to be a novel and 
interesting sight. 



62 AFTER MA TIL 

After a hasty glance at my prospective companions 
for the day, I looked about for any visible peculiarities. 
As everything about the construction of the dampscJnft 
was unlike other steamers, I shall not attempt to de- 
scribe the " Friede," but only mention one or two con- 
spicuous oddities. I noticed that in various places, and 
printed in different languages, cards were posted con- 
taining the regulations of the boat. Some of the rules 
were quite unlike any I had ever observed before, and 
strange enough to be easily remembered. For instance, 
each passenger must procure a ticket immediately upon 
reaching the deck, or payment of fare from the point 
of the boat's departure would be exacted. Another 
was, that if for fog or any other reason the boat should 
be delayed three hours, each passenger could require 
repayment of fare. 

At last, after much din and confusion, b'^owing of 
v/histles, and ringing of bells, we were under way. 
With a long, lingering look at the cathedral, whose prod- 
igal display of beauties is not easily forgotten, I bade 
adieu to the city of the Three Kings, much cologne, 
and multitudinous legends, for a day upon the historic 
Rhine. 

It was a delightful realization of the anticipations of 
years to be gliding along that majestic river, moving 
towards the peaks, cones, and rounded ridges of the 
Seven Mountains, one being "the castled crag of Dra- 
chenfels." The morning was not clear, — in fact, rain 
was threatened ; but the haze that hung over the mistily 
outlined heights only made them appear more grand, 
and could not detract from the immediate scenery. 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 63 

which was from the first charming. There were vil- 
lages upon either bank, and glimpses were afforded of 
others among the hills. Now and again a chapel so 
isolated upon its lofty perch that until another curve 
was rounded no way of approach was visible, vines 
trained upon low trellises, and a background of hills, 
were only suggestions of what lay beyond. 

As the boat neared Bonn, we had a fine view of that 
attractive city, with its long line of university buildings, 
substantial villas, blooming gardens, pleasant wooded 
parks and walks. Passing Bonn, the beauties of the 
scenery became more apparent, as borne upon the his- 
toric stream we reached the region where romance or 
legend whispered from every vine-clad slope, in warn- 
ing that we were within the boundaries of the enchanted 
land. Moving along the stately panorama, we came to 
where, upon our right, stood the ruin of the castle of 
Godesberg, whose tall tower rose far above the little 
village upon the shore ; on our left was again visible 
the Drachenfels. 

Now the book of Rhine legends is fairly open before 
us: we soon glide by the little island of Nonnenwerth; 
upon the shore nestles Rolandseck, one of the most 
beautiful villages on the river. Three hundred feet 
above, upon a point of rock, is Roland's Arch, the last 
remaining relic of the castle of Rolandseck. You all 
remember the story of Roland, the Paladin of Charle- 
magne, who joined the crusade against the infidel 
hordes, leaving the lovely Hildegunde to await hi. 
return. Time passed on, and instead of Roland came 
news of his death ; and the disconsolate Hildegunde, 



64 AFTERMA TH. 

in her desolation and grief, entered the convent of 
Nonnenwerth, to devote the remainder of her life to 
holy thoughts and heavenly deeds. But the bold cru- 
sader was not dead ; although desperately wounded, he 
recovered and returned to claim his bride, only to find 
her lost to him forever. In his despair he built the 
stately castle, from whence he might overlook the island 
and convent, and see occasionally the form so dear to 
him. 

" Yet Roland the brave, Roland the true, 
lie could not bid that spot adieu, 

It was dear still 'midst his woes ; 
For he loved to breathe the neighboring air, 
And to think she blessed him in her prayer, 

When the hallelujah rose." 

At last he missed her ; the tolling bell and the solemn 
requiem of the black-robed sisters revealed the sad 
truth. The heart-broken lover never spake again ; but 
with eyes fixed upon the spot where she was lain to rest, 
was found sleeping the sleep that knows no waking. 

The cloister, now used for an academy for young 
ladies, still stands gleaming white among the green 
trees of the peaceful island ; and far above, — 

"There is yet one \vindow of that pile 
Which he built above the nun's green isle," 

called Roland's Arch : there, lifted against the blue sky, 
it keeps watch and ward, in perpetual memory of the 
faithful knight and the no less faithful lady of his love. 

After a few slight showers the clouds disappeared, and 
under a bright sky we glided past a succession of vine- 
yards and castles, sleepy villages and thriving towns, 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 65 

Gothic chapels on dizzy heights, wayside shrines and 
lofty-spired churches, giving a charming variety to the 
scenery. 

At midday we were passing through some of the 
greatest wine-producing districts of the world. The 
peculiar arrangement of the vineyards is very unlike 
the custom at home ; and it is necessary for one to 
remember that the vines are for fruit alone, before he 
can be reconciled to the straightness and regularity 
that prevail. Many are planted in serried rows, upon 
heights so nearly perpendicular that terraces and little 
walls of stone are requisite to prevent the fertile earth 
from sliding off the rock. We are surprised at the 
strong growth, on seeing the soil from which they 
appear to spring ; but in reality they are planted in a thin 
stratum of arable land, often brought from a distance. 
Everywhere upon the sunny slopes the women were at 
work, picking the leaves, tying back the vines, and in 
all possible ways aiding the sun to reach the fruit ; for 
it is upon their faithful care and labor that the vintage 
largely depends. Thick stems and stout branches up- 
hold to the ripening sun close clusters of the winy 
grape ; but no dainty tendrils reach out for support, no 
wayward spray tosses in the wind : all is practical and 
useful, but not beautiful. 

Along the river bank runs the ever-aggressive rail- 
v/ay ; often in sight, then disappearing within a hill, or 
behind the wooded heights. The whizzing, shrieking 
locomotive, and accompanying rumble and clatter of 
wheels, waken many echoes ; but alas ! they too destroy 
many picturesque views. 
S 



66 A F TERM A TH. 

Watch-towers, chateaux, and numerous ruins of medi- 
aeval times, vineyards and churches, quiet landscapes 
and sunny hills, are mingled in inextricable confusion 
as I recall those delightful hours. The beauties and 
realities of the present seemed intensified by their con- 
nection with history, legend, and imagination, until one 
is impressed and enchanted beyond expression. 

In the distance appeared Ehrenbreitstein, that won- 
derful fortress of which history has given so faithful a 
record, and whose strength poets have embalmed in 
song. Founded upon a precipitous rock, four hundred 
feet above the river, it is utterly inaccessible upon 
three sides ; its massive fortifications have always been 
regarded as proof of great skill in military engineering. 
Its time-worn but still impregnable walls frowned upon 
and awed us with their seemingly increasing magnitude 
and strength, as we glided from beneath the shadow of 
the battlemented crag, and crossed the stream to beau- 
tiful Coblentz, nestled on the river bank ; behind it 
sweeps down the "blue Moselle," spanned by a pictu- 
resque arched bridge. 

" From out the far horizon 

The Moselle leads its wavy line of villages 

Set in the emerald rim of vines, to meet the Rhine." 

Not at once, however, does the lesser stream lose 
itself in the greater, as for some little distance the blue 
waters remain distinct from those of the gray, glacier- 
fed Rhine. The river is at this point one half of a 
mile wide, and a bridge of boats connects Coblentz with 
the fortress upon the opposite shore. A section of this 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 6/ 

bridge was thrown open for the steamer to pass through, 
and we floated away from the imposing sight, by island 
and vineyard, until we reached the royal chateau or 
castle of Stolzenfels. 

" O'er the river's level current Stolzenfels leans wondrous fair, 

Like a sunset cloud in summer, pillowed on dissolving air, 

With its burnished towers and balcons, and its bannered state and pride, 

With fantastic battlements, sun-illumined, glorified." 

The late king of Prussia rescued it from its state of 
ruin, and restored it with high towers and battlements 
of the Gothic style ; at times Kaiser Wilhelm sojourns 
there, and then, from the black and white twisted flag- 
staff on the top of the tallest tower, floats the imperial 
standard of Prussia. 

Soon we passed Lahneck, with its imposing towers, 
and Konigsstuhl of patriotic and political fame. Next 
came the grand castle of Marksberg, nearly five hundred 
feet above the Rhine ; this old fortified palace has the 
distinction of being the onl}^ one upon the river which 
has escaped destruction. It is a subject for congratula- 
tion that this old feudal fort has been redeemed from the 
degradation of serving the government of Nassau for a 
prison, as since 1866 it has been used for private pur- 
poses alone. Two winding paths lead to the fortified 
height, and a watch-tower guards the pass. 

Many years ago, a German friend returning from his 
native land brought to me the engraving of a village near 
his home. It was a pleasant surprise to recognize that 
view in all its details, as we came in sight of Bornhofen ; 
the little village, with its pilgrimage church and con- 
vent, stretched back to the foot of a bold, rocky emi- 



68 AFTERMA TfL 

nence, upon whose two most prominent points stand 
the ruins of the twin castles of Sterrenberg and Lieber- 
stein. It seemed as if the landscape had scarcely 
changed with the passing years. There were the broad 
fields of grain at the left, the noble walnut-trees along 
the bank, and the row-boats upon the shore ; above, 
upon the terraced heights, were the vineyards in full 
fruitage. Under the circumstances, I naturally felt 
much interested in the legend of the Brothers, and will 
give it as briefly as possible. 

Courad and Heinrich — sons of the lord of Lieben- 
stein — loved the beautiful Hildegarde, their foster sis- 
ter. The generous Heinrich, concealing his affection, 
tore himself away and joined the Crusade, leaving his 
brother to win the prize. Conrad was successful with 
his suit ; and the old lord, overjoyed at the prospect of 
the happiness of those so dear to him, commenced the 
castle of Sterrenberg for their home. Dying ere its 
completion, the marriage was postponed. Then Con- 
rad, wearied of the fair damsel, also joined the Crusade ; 
leaving Hildegarde in loneliness and sorrow, but in igno- 
rance of his estrangement, hopeful of his return. At 
length he came, but brought with him a lovely Grecian 
bride to grace the Sterrenberg castle. Crushed with 
this proof of the baseness of the one she loved, the 
deserted Hildegarde remained secluded in her own 
apartment in the old home. A stranger knight claimed 
the hospitality of the castle ; to meet the demand of 
that duty, she rose above private sorrow : she found in 
the wayfarer the chivalrous Heinrich, who had returned 
to avenge the wronscs of his foster sister. But when 



UP THE RIVER RHINE. 69 

the brothers met in deadly conflict, the loving Hilde- 
garde interposed and effected a reconciliation ; she then 
retired to the cloister of Bornhofen. The Grecian bride 
proved as faithless as fair ; the Sterrenberg castle was 
left to crumble unused, while the united brothers lived 
ogether and died in the home of their childhood. 

I think that a fitting finale to this story would be, 
that at the witching hour of night the lovely Hildegarde 
is seen to pace back and forth upon the narrow chine of 
rock which unites the ruined castles. 

Then the immense ruin of Rheinfels was pointed out, 
as being the finest upon the Rhine. In its glory, this fort- 
ress was second only to Ehrenbreitstein in strength. At 
one time, it resisted a siege of fifteen months' duration, 
when the besiegers withdrew. Later, a force of 24,000 
men was sent to take it : they stormed its massive walls 
in vain ; they were defeated, and the comparatively small 
garrison continued to hold the fort. At last, French 
powder laid it low ; and a magnificent ruin, the property 
of the Emperor of Germany, is all that remains of the 
old stronghold. 

Upon our left rose the precipitous rocks where the 
water nymph, Lurlie, sat and sang so enchantingly that 
the sailors forgot to trim their sails, or bend to their oars ; 
bewitched by the sweet strains, they were drawn to their 
destruction in the whirling pool that seethed at the base 
of the siren's home. 

Oberwesel, its churches, walls, and pinnacled towers, 
were supplemented by the extensive ruins of Schonberg ; 
then Cant, with its olden-time fortifications, and the lofty 
turrets of the castle of Gutenfels. Soon we reached the 



70 'aftermath. 

small six-sided building called the Pfalz, which stands 
upon the rocks in the middle of the stream, and bears 
upon it the lion of the Palatinate. This has turrets and 
projecting corners; the only entrance being a window, 
six feet from the rock, which is reached by a ladder. This 
is supposed to have been originally intended for a toll- 
house ; it certainly was conveniently located for the pur- 
pose of exacting tribute from passing boats, in the per- 
suasive manner of the robber knights of the olden days. 

" Above the river's hurrying swirl, 

Cliff-anchored Rheinstein lifts its walls ; 
The kingly banners there unfurl, 

And turret unto turret calls ; 
A mimic show of feudal state, 

With donjon, barbican, and keep, 
Where toy-like tower and modern gate 

Rise o'er the piled and well-made steep; 
Where warders show large storied wealth. 
And share the gains they take by stealth." 

As we neared this picturesque fortress, fully restored 
in the style of its ancient splendor, the setting sun threw 
its golden rays upon the heavy pinnacled towers, the float- 
ing flag, and the ivy-clad projecting balcony, and gilded 
every sloping hill and jutting crag; in this mellowed 
light, the wooded heights and distant peaks took on new 
beauty. 

Twilight slowly deepened into night, and on shore and 
hill twinkling lights succeeded to the glowing sunset and 
the hour of eventide. Under the starry sky, we went 
on our winding way ; passing the rock amid stream upon 
which stands the Mouse Tower, deriving its name from 
the well-known legend of the cruel bishop of Hatto. The 



VP THE Rn'ER RHINE. "J I 

sight recalled to my thought the fervor with which, in 
my childhood, I recited (?) Southey's familiar rendering 
of the story ; even to the delicious horror I experienced 
in picturing the coming of the rats : — 

"And in at the windows, and in at the door, 
And through the walls by thousands they pour ; 
And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor. 
From the right, from the left, from behind and before. 
From within and without, from above and below, 
And all at once at the Bishop they go." 

Then the increasing delight which the climax brought, 
when, in as sepulchral a tone as I could command, I re- 
peated : — 

" They have whetted their teeth against the stones, 
And now they pick the Bishop's bones ; 
They gnawed his flesh from every limb, 
For they were sent to do judgment on him." 

Soon we passed "fair Bingen," and glided onward 
beneath the bright starlight towards Mayence. 

"And if reluctantly my eyes resign 
Their cherished gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine, 
'T is with the thankful glance of parting praise." 

Among our travelling companions upon that day of 
rare delight were the English tourists vv^ith their Hur- 
rays, the Americans with their Baedekers, while the 
Germans in the more sensible way drank in all the en- 
joyment of the lovely scenery without consulting any 
book of reference. With the variety was the sociable 
American, whose efforts were persistent to induce one 
and all to express an opinion as to the relative merits 
of the rivers Rhine and Hudson ; or at least to hear 



72 AFTERMATH. 

his very decided and loudly expressed conviction that 
"the Hudson could not be beat." 

To me the streams appear so entirely unlike that 
truly, "comparisons are odious," Upon the Rhine, 
every feature possesses the charm of novelty. The 
castled heights, the ivy-garlanded ruins, the sunny hills 
covered with vines bending under their luscious burden, 
the noble river reflecting in quick succession a series 
of varying landscapes, beyond the near ranges the 
loftier peaks, — all combine to form charming pictures, 
which are, in retrospect, as unreal and misty as was the 
blue haze that hung above them that glad day, and 
wavered in the glowing sunlight. While the Hudson is 
bluer and clearer, I cannot believe that any river runs 
that can truthfully lay claim to more natural beauties 
and interesting associations than the Rhine, — 

" Gathering, as it proudly marches on its grand triumphal way, 
States and empires, fair and hoary, founded at the peep of day ; 
Folding in its wide embraces, in its glittering jewelled arms, 
Lordly mansions, towns, and cities, cottage meek, and bosky farms 
Till at last, with hoarded treasure, full it leaps into the sea, 
Like our lives, whose amplest measure onward flows to mystery." 



HEIDELBERG. 73 



VIII. 

HEIDELBERG. 

" This Heidelberg, rained on by cannon seven times, 
Twice gutted by tierce pillage, thrice by flame." 

First the green valley of the winding Neckar, and 
the sloping hillsides covered with vineyards ; then the 
tov/n of Heidelberg, in its situation of romantic beauty, 
quaint and time-worn, but full of charm. 

Crowded by the Castle Hill — or more correctly, the 
Jettenbrtihl, a spur of the loftier Konigsstuhl — to the 
brink of the Neckar, there is but space for three streets, 
which stretch along the river's bank for two miles. 
The expanding town sent its highways and byways to 
the base of the hill, and then, not content, they have 
struggled up the slope in the most picturesque manner. 

Fronting the little square called the Corn Market, 
stands the Prince Charles Hotel, where we were soon 
established ; finding pleasant rooms, excellent table,, 
prompt attention, and every requisite comfort. Among 
the latter I desire to mention one item which might 
with propriety be deemed a luxury, — the light, warm 
beds of down, ready for use those August nights. 

From our windows, we could look up to where the 
castle seemed perched above our very heads, and also 
see the continual procession of comers and goers, climb- 
ing the steep footpath, or driving upon the mucJ* 



74 AFTERMA TH. 

frequented road which leads to the castled height and 
beyond. 

A drive up and down the principal streets revealed 
the characteristics of Heidelberg. The houses were 
queer in appearance, many of them being built of solid 
stone ; tall, gray, and quaint, with towers and heavily 
barred shutters; others had steep roofs and odd project- 
ing casements. The women walked the streets with 
the same firm, masculine tread as the women of Hol- 
land ; their strength was so evident that the carrying 
of heavy burdens on their heads only suggested an easy 
task. I observed that a pad or cushion was worn, upon 
which the load rested ; the hands were swinging idly at 
the side, not being required to balance the well-filled 
basket or heavy bundle. 

One of the great attractions of Heidelberg, particu- 
larly to scholars, is the University, one of the first 
established in the German Empire. Its reputation is 
world-wide, and at different periods it has numbered 
many Americans among its students. Its numerous 
scholastic branches, extensive library, hosts of profess- 
ors, and record of centuries, combine to make it a pop- 
ular institution. 

The fine macadamized road which winds up the hill 
soon attracted us thitherward ; ivy-grown walls guarded 
the outer edge of the way, which in numerous curves 
ascended to the castle, which we passed to go beyond 
to the Molkencur, and still above that to the Konigs- 
stuhl. From that point a fine view is afforded, includ- 
ing many landscapes of varied beauty. Descending upon 
the other side of the hill, our way led by farms, with 



HEIDELBERG. 75 

Iheir fields of grain, grazing flocks and herds, and small, 
productive vineyards. Before us was a constantly chang- 
ing panorama, a mingling of woods, hills, rivers, and 
towns, as we wound down to the fertile valley. 

' Reaching the shallow river, we crossed upon a rope 
ferry, primitive in all its belongings, and drove along 
the level shore to the little village of Nouenheim. 
Quite near stands the well-known Zur Hirschgasse, 
the famous hotel where the students' duels take place. 
This barbarous custom has in a measure been done 
away with ; but the frightfully scarred faces so fre- 
quently seen in this part of Germany afford evidence 
that the practice is not entirely obsolete among the 
ambitious youth. 

We returned to Heidelberg across the handsome 
stone bridge, adorned with statues of Minerva and the 
Elector, under whose auspices it was constructed. 

After this hasty glance at Heidelberg and its immedi- 
ate surroundings, we again turned our attention to the 
chief attraction to strangers, the famous castle, standing 
half-way down the wooded slope of the Konigsstuhl. 
Its extent, beautiful situation, historical associations, 
with remaining evidences of its former grandeur, have 
given to it the reputation of being "the most mag- 
nificent ruin in Germany " ; experienced travellers add 
that with the single exception of the Alhambra, it is the 
most impressive relic of mediaeval times. Hoary and 
old, it still dominates town and river. Behind, in fine 
relief, are the pine-crested hills ; above and beyond, 
deeper hues from denser forest shades. 

Erected at the close of the thirteenth century, it 



76 AFTERMA TIT. 

Stood unharmed through numerous wars and revolts, 
until Louis XIV. began the conflict which resulted so 
disastrously for this beautiful castle and many others, 
whose desolate walls to-day make historical ground of 
all Rhineland. At the time that the castle was burned, 
the town was also set on fire, and efforts were made to 
blow up the fortifications. The attempt was only par- 
tially successful ; for the enormous charge of powder 
placed beneath the great round tower, instead of lifting 
the massive structure to fall in shattered fragments, 
broke off nearly one half of the cylinder, which still 
lies in the deep moat where it fell, a wall of solid ma- 
sonry, twenty-one feet in thickness. Four years later, 
the destructive process was repeated, with gratifying 
results to the French. In 1794, lightning struck the 
doomed edifice, and its ruin was complete. 

This building is a blending of palace and fortress ; 
its cemented walls of fabulous thickness contrast 
strangely with balconies, terraces, and facades rich in 
ornamentation. Designed for a stronghold and thor- 
oughly fortified, its exterior was plain, little being added 
in the line of embellishment, even upon the portion 
overlooking the town. Within the Schlosshof, the style 
of the architecture is extremely elaborate ; though, as 
there were several buildings erected at different periods, 
there is quite a variety shown, both in form and orna- 
mentation. Arms, statues, medallions, and various de- 
vices, elegantly wrought, abound ; conspicuous upon one 
of the fronts is the imperial eagle with the arms of the 
Palatinate. The most striking fagade is upon the struc- 
ture known as the Otto Heinrich's Bau. This was built 



HEIDELBERG. 77 

three centuries ago, and the numerous niches of the 
three stories are filled with sculptured figures, or the 
remains of them ; they are allegorical, Biblical, and 
mythological. The parapet is adorned with colossal 
statues of Apollo and Jupiter. Each window arch con- 
tains a medallion of an eminent man of antiquity ; each 
window cap is supported by a carved lion, flower, head 
of griffin or other animal, arabesque figure, or odd 
device. The cornice of the grand portal is upheld by 
bronze caryatides. 

In its original perfection it must have been grand, as 
now, one is enchanted by the splendor of its ruined state. 
The effect of all this shattered magnificence is really so 
bewildering, that whoever attempted a description would 
of necessity fail to do the great ruin justice. 

Standing upon the terrace, an extensive and beautiful 
view is spread before us. At our feet sleeps the quiet 
town ; beyond the town and bridge, the narrow Neckar 
broadens to mingle its waters with those of the Rhine, 
which winds through the expanse of country, revealed 
to our vision from this height. On the opposite shore 
is Heiligenberg : the crumbling ruin of an old chapel 
crowns its summit, and its slopes are rich with the clus- 
ters of the ripening grape ; we catch sight occasionally 
of the noted Philosopher's Walk, as it appears now and 
again in its windings among the groves and vineyards. 
Beyond stretches the Odenwald, and afar, in the dim 
mist of distance, we faintly discern the Alsatian moun- 
tains. That scene is incomparable, and one is rich who 
has stored in memory's halls a copy of so magnificent a 
landscape, framed in by the everlasting hills. 



7^ AFTER ATA TH. 

Close at hand is the majestic ruin, whose only roof 
is the blue sky : but over broken arch and crumbling 
bastion, ruin-loving vines hang their clustered masses ; 
festoons of ivy wave in the wind, surround the broken 
columns, and drape the shattered windows ; rich masses 
of foliage conceal the moss-grown stones, and delicate 
ferns sleep in the shade of wall and moat. Still, totter- 
ing terrace and roofless hall speak eloquently of that day 
when in the beaks of the French eagles were borne 

" Fire-brands above the doomed Palatinate " ; 

and still are 

" The rugged halves not welded yet 
Save by the ivy's pitying thick veils." 



STRASBURG. 79 



IX. 



STRASBURG. 



"Lifting majestically to peopled heavens 

Awe-struck stone anthems, not unheard of God, 

Cathedral epics, voice of man's tall hour." — Joseph Cook. 

We reluctantly left the comforts and delights of Hei- 
delberg after two restful, charming days ; but we might 
not further delay, therefore an early hour found us en 
route for Strasburg for a glance at its famous cathedral, 
and then onward to Basle, as we purposed to sleep in 
Switzerland that night. 

A few hours brought us near the old, strongly forti- 
fied city ; and even in the environs, evidence of its im- 
portance was shown in the prevailing air of military 
activity. In every direction, earthworks were being 
raised, and massive fortifications of stone and brick 
being built ; while soldiers in their fatigue uniforms 
were laboring at the works, waiting at the stations, or 
crowded into fourth-class cars being transported to an- 
other military point. 

The extensive line of fortifications surrounding the 
city, upon which work has been in progress for years, 
fairly bristled with soldiers. Sentinels and standing 
guards were a perpetual reminder of the fact that we 
were traversing ground more than once warmly con- 
tested, and whose ownership on different occasions was 



8o AFTER MA TFL 

extremely doubtful. The warlike preparations seemed 
to indicate that the Germans intend to keep that which 
they have with difficulty regained from their avaricious 
neighbors. 

In driving about for a look at the city in general^ we 
came to the statue of Gutenberg, which stands in a 
platz bearing his name. This handsome memorial to 
the "father of printing" is of bronze; upon the pedes- 
tal are a series of bas-reliefs, symbolizing the blessings 
which his invention has brought to all parts of the 
world. 

The cathedral at Strasburg claims to antedate all 
others yet seen, as King Clovis, of sixth-century fame, 
is said to have been its founder. Looking at its facade, 
the two square towers and immense rose window seem 
very like Westminster Abbey; but there the resem- 
blance ceases. The carvings upon and around the prin- 
cipal entrance are so numerous as to appear excessive ; 
as a consequence of this embellishment, much, other- 
wise full of significance, is crowded out of sight and 
memory. Artists and sculptors assert that the statues 
and reliefs include many specimens of the finest ancient 
Gothic work of that kind now in existence. Above 
the grand entrance are four equestrian statues : one of 
Clovis, date unknown ; two others, the work of thir- 
teenth-century sculptors; and Louis XIV., added in 
1823. 

During the bombardment in 1793, several hundred of 
the ornamental statuettes were thrown down and de- 
stroyed. The beautiful spire alone owes its preserva- 
tion to the fact that it wore at the extreme point of its 



STRASBURG. 8 1 

surmounting cross a red metal cap, the badge of repub- 
licanism. Again, in the siege of 1870, many of the 
decorations were broken, numerous windows shattered, 
and the huge cross at the apex of the spire seriously- 
bent by a projectile sent thither with malicious intent. 
Fortunately the interior escaped injury, and the dam- 
ages to the exterior have been repaired. 

The general design of the interior is similar to all 
the large cathedrals one sees abroad ; but the superior 
breadth of nave and great height produce an unusual 
impression of stately grandeur. Fourteen clustered 
columns support the arched roof, which rises one hun- 
dred feet above the pavement. The light, admitted 
through the large windows of beautifully colored glass, 
adds to the harmonious effect of the grand perspective. 
We wandered through the side chapels, with their rich 
altar decorations and elegant memorials; but as I weary 
of this churchy repetition, will for this once spare my 
friends. 

However, this cathedral contains one novelty : the 
astronomical clock, which is a wonderful piece of 
mechanism. It was built by a clock-maker of Stras- 
burg, to replace one which had stood in one of the 
transepts for hundreds of years. This has been well 
described ; but any person who saw the accurate model 
— one-seventh size, if I remember rightly — which was 
exhibited throughout our country several years since, 
would have a more correct idea of this curious and 
complicated machinery than could be obtained by any 
attempted description. 

Standing upon the pavement, we look up, up to the 
6 



82 AFTERMA TH. 

extreme point of the graceful, tapering pinnacle, which 
springs from one of the massive square towers to a 
height only rivalled by one spire in Europe, that upon 
the cathedral at Hamburg. This steeple mounts two 
hundred and fifty feet above the tower, making a 
grand total from the ground of four hundred and sev- 
enty feet. Nearly four hundred stairs are required to 
reach the platform of the tower; from this, four unfin- 
ished turrets rise, containing winding stairs, leading 
through lattice-work of stone to the lantern, so called, 
— really an observatory. 

Higher still the venturesome climb, up the steps upon 
the outside, with no protection save the wall, to which 
they are supposed to be securely fastened. From the 
circular gallery of the tower, the turrets and lantern, the 
view is extensive and grand. This assertion I make 
positively, while candidly admitting that my knowledge 
upon the subject is purely imaginative. 

This spire is a combination of grace and boldness ; 
we know that it is builded of stone, while in appearance 
it is as light and delicate as filigree. Exquisite tracery 
and minute exactness of detail are revealed upon every 
stone ; and the patient labor of the builder speaks in 
the noble result. Viewed as a whole, with its carvings, 
Gothic points, pinnacles, and network of open arches, 
the sublimity of this uplifted memorial of past ages is 
incomparable. 

While waiting at the station, I was reminded, by the 
peculiar head-dresses of the women, that Strasburg is 
the capital of Alsace. The knots of ribbon, which the 
ladies at home had so gracefully worn, and called Alsa- 



STRASBURG. 83 

tian bows, seem very diminutive compared with the 
genuine ones upon their native soil. Those that I saw 
were made of black ribbon, about eight inches wide ; 
each loop was ten or twelve inches long, wired into a 
curve, and the deeply fringed ends floated over the 
shoulders. As it would be impossible to wear any fur- 
ther covering upon the head, undoubtedly the fashion 
in Alsace demands no more. 



84 AFTERMA TH. 



X. 



BASLE AND LUCERNE. 



From Strasburg to Basle was a ride of five hours ; and 
as long as daylight lasted, there was much to interest in 
the varying scenery. Old castles and watch-towers upon 
distant heights were as much a feature of the country 
traversed, as upon the Rhine, although our great dis- 
tance from the majority of them prevented more than 
a general view of outline. 

It was evident that we were nearing the Alpine 
regions ; for some ranges could be discerned in the dis- 
tance, before the sun set and the rain came. Then 
darkness seemed to settle upon the earth, and we entered 
Switzerland by one of its northern gates, without even 
the glimmer of a star ; and the twinkling lights of Basle 
only served to make "but rather, darkness visible." 

A half-day in Basle gave ample time for a sight of the 
old-fashioned town, which has in some regards become 
partially modernized. However charming it might have 
been under other circumstances, it was not satisfying to 
linger long upon the threshold of Alpine scenery ; I, for 
one, was all impatience to press forward and possess that 
which had stood from time immemorial and waited for 
my eyes to see. 

Therefore, the afternoon found us running through 
the midst of fertile lands, and by the little homes among 



BASLE AND LUCERNE. 85 

the hills, which were a surprise to me, in the evidences 
of taste and care which surrounded them. Plants in the 
windows and little beds of flowers were so frequently 
seen as to attract notice, amid the signs of poverty every- 
where to be observed. The sloping hillsides were thor- 
oughly cultivated ; and although the middle of August, 
the farmers were haying, while the fields of grain were 
untouched. More women than men were working in 
the fields, and being served by various apologies in the 
way of teams. Sometimes four cows were harnessed 
to a hay-cart ; frequently, a mule and cow driven to- 
gether. 

As the hours passed, we climbed higher up the outlying 
mountains; we ran around spurs of loftier heights; we 
crossed bridges which appeared to be suspended between 
heaven and earth ; we ran into rocky depths, where sight 
was a thing of the past, only the blackness of darkness 
around us, and thick smoke. 

Onward we went through a succession of such changes, 
until more and more clearly defined before us stood the 
precipitous crags and rugged cliffs of Pilatus, and near 
at hand, in pleasing contrast, the long fresh ridge of Rigi. 
We passed through groves of firs ; we wound around 
the banks of the river Reuss, whose green waters, clear 
as crystal, emerge from Lake Lucerne with the swiftness 
characterizing a mountain torrent ; and then, crossing a 
long bridge, we were at Lucerne, — Rigi and Pilatus on 
either hand, and afar the snow-clad heights. To me 
this seemed, in very deed, entering into the glory, and 
with the new experience came an uplifting of body and 
fpirit. 



8^ AFTER MA TH. 

" Who first beholds the Alps — that mighty chain 

Of mountains, stretching on from east to west, 

So massive, yet so shadowy, so ethereal, 

As to belong rather to heaven than to earth — 

But instantly receives into his soul 

A sense, a feeling that he loseth not, 

A something that informs him 't is a moment 

Whence he may date henceforward and forever ? " 

Every one says that there is little to interest the tour- 
ist in Lucerne, and what everybody says must be true ; 
but we will take a hasty survey of the place. A long 
line of handsome hotels faces the lake, but is separated 
from it by an avenue shaded by walnut-trees, a well-kept 
boulevard, and a substantial quay. There are several 
streets of shops, filled with the finest of embroideries, 
curiosities of carving, and many novel and attractive arti- 
cles. Then the quaint old covered bridges, with their 
numerous faded-out paintings, are something of a curi- 
osity : one has illustrations of Swiss history, mingled 
with representations of incidents in the lives of the patron 
saints of Lucerne ; the other has the cheerful adornment 
of the " Dance of Death." 

Upon the lake, little steamers are coming and going, 
to and from various points upon the shore ; pleasure 
boats filled with gay parties, joyous with song and laugh- 
ter, are floating over the blue waters. 

Beyond is a superb view : the green hills, then loftier 
rocks brown and bare ; farther, peaks above peaks are 
seen through the blue haze. Grim Pilatus is a prominent 
feature of Lucerne ; it is believed by, those who regard 
tradition to have been so named from the ignominious 
Pontius Pilate. The story is, that remorse drove him 



BASLE AND LUCERNE. 8/ 

out a wanderer upon the face of the earth ; and reaching 
the then desolate mountain, from a high, barren cliff, he 
plunged into the lake, and thus ended his wretched life. 

The " Lion of Lucerne " is in more than one sense the 
lion : that noble monument to the memory of the Swiss 
guards who fell in defence of the Tuileries. Who will 
say that being designed by Thorwaldsen does not give 
an additional charm to this monarch among lions ? Re- 
clining in a cool, shady grotto, transfixed with a broken 
lance, dying, he still guards with his paw the shield of 
France and lily of Bourbon. Shrubs grow thickly around 
the edge of the huge sandstone cliff, and vines creep over 
and drape the massive rock with their drooping sprays. 
At the base is a deep, quiet pool, into which ever drips, 
drips, the trickling stream from an unseen source. 

Nearly out of the town stands the old cathedral ; still 
farther back are the watch-towers and ancient wall ; and 
that is all that recurs to my mmd at present. All ; for 
if one attempt to analyze a charming town, upon the 
shore of a lovely lake, in the very heart of Switzerland, 
the effort must be a failure. To me, Lucerne seemed 
one of those delightful and attractive places where it 
would be a joy to "bide a wee." 



88 AFTERMATH. 



XI. 



RIGI. 



" If Pilatus wears his cap, serene will be the day ; 
If his collar he puts on, you may venture on the way; 
But if his sword he wields, at home you 'd better stay." 

The sign included in this old saying was favorable, 
and we ventured to take passage upon the small steamer 
for Vitznau, the terminus of the Rigi Railway. Al- 
though, to inexperienced eyes, many indications of rain 
seemed apparent, no one presumed to be sufficiently 
weather-wise to dispute the predictions of Pilatus, the 
trusty barometer for Lucerne and vicinity. 

As we moved from the quay, leaving behind the rug- 
ged mountain, upon our left in striking contrast rose 
the grassy slopes of Rigi ; each in its peculiar char- 
acteristics seemed like an old friend, after the brief 
acquaintance of a day. Rem.oved from our close sur- 
roundings, there were to be seen in the distance an 
endless number of piled-up mountains and great peaks 
painted against the sky; and to crown all, a glimpse of 
the solemn, white-robed Jungfrau. 

It was a delightful sail upon this fairest of lakes, with 
the mingling of the grand and picturesque in its vary- 
ing scenery, and the two hours were quickly passed. 
At Vitznau, the train was awaiting the arrival of the 
boat, and looked, as it was, adapted to steep inclines. 



RIGI. 89 

with the locomotive apparently standing at an angle of 
forty-five degrees. 

But I have no intention of being tiresome with dull, 
useful information concerning this route ; I simply 
desire the privilege of stating briefly that I shall never, 
never again speak disrespectfully of the " fifth wheel of 
a coach" : for to middle rail, pinion wheel, and cog we 
owed our safety in the ascent of that inclined plane. 
We made the distance of four and one half miles in one 
and one half hours ; a slow progress, that gave ample 
opportunity for the enjoyment of the ever-changing 
views. One of the wildest spots was where an iron 
viaduct, supported by two pillars of the same, crossed a 
deep, wide gorge. It appeared as if suspended in mid- 
air, and looked frail as gossamer, compared with the 
might of its surroundings. Down in the depths of the 
ravine, where the mountain torrent rushed and roared, 
forming falls and cascades in its rapid passage over 
the huge bowlders, I only saw a silvery thread winding 
among the rocks one hundred feet below. Then we 
were lost in the darkness of a tunnel, and emerged from 
its gloom upon the verge of a cliff whose perpendicu- 
lar wall rose high at our right, while at our left the 
precipitous rock hung over space and depth that seemed 
unlimited. 

As we went up, up, the world — our immediate world 
of Vitznau, Lucerne, and the lake we had just left — 
gradually fell away from us, while in the natural se- 
quence of the law of compensation, new beauties and 
glories revealed themselves; new peaks and domes 
came out from the mountain mist to bid us friendly 



QO AFTERMA TH. 

welcome, as we climbed the fresh, green slopes of the 
northern peak of the Rigi range. 

It was at the midway station of Rigi-Staffel that I 
saw the first Edelweiss. Some tourists claim that it 
grows only upon almost inaccessible heights; oihers go 
to the opposite extreme, and insist that it is easily gath- 
ered at any point among the Alps. As I saw none 
growing, my experience was necessarily different ; for 
want of the opportunity, I neither plucked it from the 
verge of a precipitous rock nor from the wayside : I 
bought mine from a little mountain maid, at ten pfen- 
nigs a bunch, I know that it is quite the fashion to 
disparage the Edelweiss, while many wax eloquent in 
descriptions of the Alpine rose. Tastes differ: I like the 
former, while I think the latter ugly; and am sure some 
will agree with me, when I add that its color is magenta. 
However, I gratified my especial preference by fre- 
quently purchasing from the children the "noble 
white," and sending it to friends in home letters ; 
simply because of the significance of the legend that 
peace and happiness would abide with those who re- 
ceived and cherished the modest Alpine flower. 

When we left the cars, at the station behind the last 
projecting shoulder of the rnountain, Rigi-Kulm Hotel 
and the summit seemed just before us. But mountain 
distances are proverbially deceptive, and the air was 
quite too light to afford breath and strength for the re- 
maining climb, without experiencing great fatigue. At 
last, breathless and nearly exhausted, I gained the hotel, 
only to take a brief rest before ascending the trifling 
rise to stand upon the very verge of the tall, flat cliff. 



RIGL 91 

The isolated situation of this peak, more than its 
great altitude, makes it the desirable point from which 
to secure an uninterrupted view ; the gazer from Rigi 
occupies a radiating centre, from which in clear weather 
he may command a singularly beautiful and varied pan- 
orama, whose grand circumference is three hundred 
miles. 

Rigi is about the height of Mount Washington, but 
what a contrast ! Our mountain is bleak and bare ; the 
white, dwarfed, dead skeletons of the pine-trees telling 
the story of arctic chill and desolation. Upon the fer- 
tile slopes of the Rigi flourish the almond, fig, and chest- 
nut ; hundreds of cattle graze upon its pasture lands, 
and on every side is to be seen the chalet of the 
peasant. 

Though the pleasure of a clear sunset was denied us, 
the clouds lifted for a moment, giving a charming 
glimpse of the valley ; then, rolling away in the dis- 
tance, we had a vision of the Bernese range, with the 
Matterhorn and other famous peaks : these only sug- 
gested to our minds beauties and glories as yet unre- 
vealed, for which we must await the morning. As the 
sun disappeared, fog and mist enveloped us ; and grop- 
ing our way to the hotel, we gladly sought the cheerful 
parlor and the comortable fire. 

Warned that the horn would sound at four o'clock 
the following morning, if there was a prospect of a visi- 
ble sunrise, I retired at an early hour ; but alas ! not to 
sleep. The rarefied air so increased my circulation and 
poorly supplied my lungs, that I found a recumbent 
position impossible; so, snugly packed in a down bed, 



92 AFTERMATH. 

with numerous wraps (for the night air was filled with a 
chill and penetrating dampness), I watched the long 
hours through, and as my windows looked towards the 
east, I saw the first indications of the approach of 
morning. 

Finally, when the dull gray of the heavens began t 
show a flush of color, the horn sounded its welcome 
call. Then what a buzz and whirr ran through the 
corridors of Rigi-Kulm ! Ten minutes later several hun- 
dred shivering, chattering people were standing upon 
the high platform, or leaning over the balustrade that 
guards the edge of the cliff, all in a state of excitement 
and eager expectancy. A party of lunatics, hastily at- 
tired, might present a similar appearance to the crowd 
there gathered. Most of the toilets possessed the 
charm of novelty, and there were some unmistakable 
articles worn which could not properly belong to the 
effects of a traveller; and I felt fully persuaded in my 
own mind that a portion of the number had neglected 
to read the warning notice, posted conspicuously in 
each room, in reference to the appropriation of any 
article of the bedding as a wrap. Pardon this digres- 
sion, which however may give something of an idea of 
what was really part of the scene, as we waited in the 
chill, gray dawning, with ardent hopes that we might 
not wait in vain for the sight denied to many. 

To my fancy, we were like the fire-worshippers of 
the East, as we watched for the coming of the god of 
day. We were no more of the earth : clouds, white, 
fleecy, and foaming, wavered beneath our feet, without 
a glimpse of land or water ; and in the dim, hazy light, 



RIGT. 93 

far up among the shifting mists, rolling above us, grand 
mountain ranges were outlined on every hand. 

To our mortal eyes was given a wonderfully expan- 
sive view, and the boundaries of our vision were heaps 
of everlasting snow. The clouds rolled forward and 
backward ; detached billows of vapor touched the point 
upon which we stood ; at last, as if a mighty hand had 
rent the veil between heaven and earth, a vista was 
opened at our feet. 

Lake Lucerne lay sleeping in a gulf that held in its 
depths, towns, villages, lakes, and rivers ; the lower sur- 
rounding hill-tops showed through the retreating mass 
of white, billowy clouds, like emerald islands in a sea of 
foam. Then a new radiance came in the east ; bright, 
warm hues spread to the zenith ; the far-away heights 
took on tints varying from rose to blood-red, and their 
snowy sides glowed with color. Brighter grew the 
heavens with ilaming tints, until the sun, like a burn- 
ing globe, appeared and flashed his splendor upon the 
mountain-tops. Ranges, needles, cones, and peaks 
received the baptism of fire, and stood arrayed in rai- 
ment of gold. 

Then, more uplifted might pierced the mists of space, 
and was fully revealed ; grand, magnificent in the glory 
of the morning sun. Streams of light flooded the world 
below, and all nature smiled beneath the beams ; rivers 
flashed in the rays, and eleven lakes showed their spark- 
ling faces, scattered through the valleys and among the 
hills. Villages and solitary chalets awakened to activ- 
ity, and a superb landscape of wonderful loveliness lay 
at our feet. 



94 AFTERMATH. 

" I return, and leaning 

O'er the parapet of cloud, 
Watch the mist, that intervening, 

Wraps the valley in its shroud. 
And the sounds of life ascending 

Faintly, vaguely meet the ear : 
Murmurs of bells, and voices blending 

With the rush of waters near." 

Recalling that scene, limited only by the distant 
domes and peaks, robed in white raiment, I marvel if 
the vision Bunyan saw was more fair, when from the 
Delectable Mountains he beheld the Celestial City. 



DOlViV FROM AND AROUND RIG/. 95 

xn. 

DOWN FROM AND AROUND RIGI. 

A HUNDRED happy people were ready for the early 
train, down from the heights into the world. All had 
realized the consummation of their hopes, by the sight 
of that glorious sunrise ; and each one was willing to 
believe himself exceptionally favored on hearing an 
American gentleman — of leisure, presumably — state 
that he had waited three weeks upon Rigi, in the daily 
expectation of witnessing the spectacle of a clear sun- 
rising, and until that morning in vain. 

In passing through the mountainous districts, it was 
a continual source of wonderment to me how the in- 
habitants managed to exist. Their resources appeared 
so limited that I was not surprised to learn that with 
the majority of the peasantry, life was an unceasing 
struggle barely to keep the wolf from the door. Men 
and women alike bear the burden of out-door toil ; they 
carry hay, cheese, and every kind of commodity in long 
baskets, strapped upon their backs, and which rise far 
above their heads. 

The women have hard, misshapen hands, faces 
wrinkled and browned by unremitting toil and expos- 
ure to wind and storm. It was painful to see the dis- 
couraged, hopeless expression their faces wore, as if 
life for them held neither comfort nor gladness. The 
children, too, wore the anxious, business look belong- 



9^ AFTERMATH. 

ing to maturer years, as they offered their flowers or 
bit of carving for sale, as if they fully realized that the 
tourist season was their harvest. 

The emblems of the religious faith of the Swiss are 
strewed over mountain and valley. In obscure places 
is frequently to be seen the cross, upreared in memory 
of Him who bore it ; and in niches of the rocks or 
within wooden shrines are rudely carved images of one 
or more of the saints ; in front of these, the poor women 
are often seen kneeling, with folded hands and air of 
deep devotion. 

The steady down-dropping to the lake was very en- 
joyable, and the time seemed only too short until we 
were at Vitznau. 

Again we went upon the little boat, and steamed out 
over the bright waters, shadowed only by the passing 
cloud or the abrupt cliffs that lined the shore. 

Lake Lucerne is made up of inlets ; here and there, 
it thrusts out a long, narrow arm, which penetrates the 
rugged crags and receives a new name. At Brunnen, 
to all appearance, we had reached the extremity, as 
dark rocks and perpendicular walls hemmed us in. 
Suddenly a rift was visible . in the heart of the bluff ; 
our boat rounded a jutting crag, and we floated into the 
Lake of Uri, surrounded by impressive heights. 

We had reached the centre of the land of heroes, 
and the fact was recalled to us on every hand. At our 
right, upon a pyramid of rock, in huge gilt letters, was 
an inscription to "Frederick Schiller, Bard of Tell." 

A little farther on, and a spot was pointed out, con- 
spicuous in its rich verdure among barren crags, where 



DOWN FROM AND AROUND RIG/. 97 

the brave men from the three cantons of Uri, Schwyz, 
and Untervvalden met to form plans for the deliverance 
of their country. It was in arranging for this confer- 
ence in some secret place that Schiller makes one of 
the trio, good Walter Fiirst, say : — 

*' On the lake's left bank, 
As we sail hence to Brunnen, right against 
The Mythenstein, deep hidden in the woods, 
A meadow lies, by shepherds called the Rootli, 
Because the wood has been uprooted there. 
Thither by lonely by-paths let us wend 
At midnight, and deliberate o'er our plans." 

The tradition among the simple peasantry is that 
upon the spot where the confederates stood to take 
their solemn oath, three fountains sprang forth, and 
that there the noble three yet remain to keep watch 
and ward over their loved country. 

A German poet wrote : — 

" The three great Tells are sleeping 

In noble Switzerland; 
Their motionless watch they 're keeping 

In Rutli, on the strand. 
By the lake where the roaring waters 

Of the forest cantons flow ; . 
They ceased from wars and slaughters 

Five hundred years ago." 

Here, surrounded by grand heights, clothed with the 
stately mountain pine, is the very place concerning 
which Ruskin wrote: "Leaving the most sacred spot 
of Swiss history, the Meadow of the Three Fountains, 
you bid the boatman row southward a little way by the 
shore of the Lake of Uri. Steepest there on its western 
side, the walls of the rock ascend to heaven. Far in 
7 



9 8 A F TERM A 71/. 

the blue of evening, like a great cathedral pavement, 
lies the lake in its darkness ; and you may hear the 
whisper of innumerable falling waters return from the 
hollows of the cliff, like the voices of a multitude pray- 
ing under their breath. From time to time, the beat of 
a wave, slow lifted, where the rock leans over the 
black depth, dies heavily as the last note of a requiem. 
Opposite, green with steep grass, and set with chalet 
villages, the Frou Alp rises in one glow of pastoral 
light and peace ; and above, against the clouds of twi- 
light ghostly on the gray precipice, stand myriad by 
myriad the shadowy armies of the Unterwalden pine." 

Upon the shore at the base of the Axenberg, bathed 
by the waters of the lake and deeply shaded by stately 
trees, is the romantic chapel named for Tell, and which 
contains coarse frescos rudely illustrating scenes in his 
life. 

Landing at Fluelen, we drove to Altorf for the pur- 
pose of seeing the fountain with the colossal statue of 
Tell. It is claimed that this stands upon the identical 
ground where the unhappy father stood during the 
painful moments when he was so cruelly tested by the 
tyrant Gessler, and not found wanting. 

The village of Burglen stoutly maintains its right 
to the honor of being the birthplace of Tell ; and quite 
near it, on the banks of the river Reuss, — where he 
was drowned in the attempt to save the life of a child, — 
is another chapel devoted to his memory. It is to the 
first-mentioned of these that the Swiss make their 
annual pilgrimage, and with various festivities celebrate 
the day. It has been handed down as a historical 



DOWN FROM AND AROUND RIGl. 99 

fact that at their first gathering, at the close of the 
fourteenth century, one hundred persons were present 
who had personally known Tell. Sceptics say that 
Tell was a myth ; but history and tradition record his 
deeds, and besides, that sublime faith in the intrepid 
deeds of the man who has been for centuries, and still 
is, the highest ideal of bravery and patriotism in the 
heart of every child in every civilized land, utterly for- 
bids that one should do such cruel violence to his better 
feelings as to doubt what each one wishes to believe. 

Under the brightness of an unclouded sky we moved 
towards Lucerne ; on through sparkling waters, whose 
green depths mirrored the gigantic crags, which at 
times seemed to spring perpendicularly from the lake 
and almost overshadow us with their might. There 
were rifts through the rocks, which afforded glimpses of 
quiet hamlets among the hills ; or a dominating peak 
pushed white head or shoulder above the lesser points 
within our vision. 

Passing the forest-clad Biirgenstock, we glided among 
a series of grand panoramic views, until again nearing 
frowning Pilatus, and facing Rigi, smiling in her verdure 
and bloom, we were at Lucerne. 

Exceeding all of the visible sources of enjoyment 
with which the two days of absence had been filled, 
was the fact of an added personal experience ; that 
sight which enabled me now to know, what before was 
dimly discerned by the eye of faith, that over and 
beyond the purple-crowned heights were the Eiger, the 
Jungfrau, the Schreckhorn, and a host of mighty peaks, 
whose feet were in the clouds and whose summits 
pierced the heavens. 



lOO AfTERMATH. 



XIII. 

BRUNIG PASS. 

" O Nature, mother Nature, she hath borne as on her breast, 

Till her own great heart is beating in flow with our unrest. 

She hath mountains, weird and kingly, with the clouds upon their head, 

She hath fearful thunder-places, where the storm is bred; 

But strength and safety gird her, sea-depth and mountain-bars, 

And peace is where eternity dwells among the stars." 

Carl Spencer. 

It was raining when we left Lucerne ; but we were 
ticketed for the Briinig Pass, go we must and go we 
did. The lake was cold, gray, and dull ; Pilatus was 
enveloped in thick clouds, and every indication was un- 
propitious. The boat was small and crowded to an 
uncomfortable degree ; and as there was no cabin, all 
must be sheltered beneath the awning. Fortunately, 
all of the passengers were in an amiable mood ; conse- 
quently, gloomy weather and personal discomfort were 
not allowed to materially mar our pleasure. 

On arriving at Alpnach, a new difficulty was encoun- 
tered ; arrangements had not been made to accommodate 
nearly all who desired to make the pass that day, and a 
perfect Babel ensued. Again telegraphy served us 
well, and we were soon in a comfortable carriage, with 
a party of Friends from Philadelphia, to make out the 
complement, and started over the smooth, hard road 
upon the long-anticipated pleasure ride, in a genuine 
down-pour. 



BRUA'IG PASS. lOI 

For several miles we were continually beset by 
peasant women, girls, and boys, to buy fruit, berries, 
milk, eggs, cookies, flowers, and other articles. At first, 
it seemed rather romantic to thus have refreshments 
brought to the carriage door ; but its repetition at every 
turn, or steeper ^rade where a lesser rate of speed was 
necessary, finally became rather monotonous. 

We ascended in long windings, through shady forests ; 
now and again emerging to look at the valley we were 
so gradually leaving, where were quiet hamlets, so iso- 
lated that it seemed as if no influence from the outside 
world could ever penetrate their seclusion. 

It was not long before we came to the Rossberg, 
which so long ago sent down its mountain-tide of earth 
and rock, covering Goldau and its five hundred vil- 
lagers, leaving them in the deep, wide grave where the 
swift avalanche found them. 

"Mountains have fallen, 
Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock 
Rocking their Alpine brethren, filling up 
The ripe, green valley with destruction's splinters ; 
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash, 
Which crushed the waters into mist, and made 
Their fountains find another channel : thus, 
Thus in its old age did Mount Rosenberg." 

Although nearly a century has elapsed, the broad, 
bare strip adown the mountain-side, upon which no 
verdure has since grown, is still a perpetual memorial 
of that fateful day. 

By the time that we had passed through the forests, 
the rain had ceased, and the bright sunlight brought 
out every little detail of the valley lying at our feet in 



I02 AFTERMATH. 

perfection. The clustered villages to which the brown 
threads of road led, the white houses with red roofs, the 
churches with tall spires, the prim rows of trees, were 
duplicates of the toy villages in which the American 
children delight. I could readily imagine how the idea 
of that miniature hamlet originated in that land of carv- 
ing, where such pigmy landscapes are always to be seen 
from the heights. 

The river rolled past the well-tilled farms and 
through the little villages ; between these hamlets 
strips of road wound to and fro ; on the opposite side of 
the broad valley the rocks were lifted high ; and farther 
beyond, loftier peaks pushed their dazzling snows into 
the sunshine. 

At the summit we stopped at the Brunig-Kulm 
Hotel, to dine and to rest the horses. The experience 
there was rather amusing ; and as we sat down to the 
thoroughly uninviting table, at least one member of the 
party thought regretfully of the neatly served and appe- 
tizing viands, so easily spurned before the mountain 
appetite was gained. The register, with its broad col- 
umn for remarks, contained good evidence that our 
experience was not unique. It was apparent that the 
inmates of the hotel were not familiar with the English 
language, and that the criticisms had not wounded their 
feelings ; for the book was pressed upon our notice, with 
an earnestness which could only be accounted for by 
the suggestion made by one, that they expected to 
receive more complimentary (.-') testimony. I only 
added after my name the short but expressive portion 
of the German proverb, — " Silence is gold." 



BRUNIG PASS. 103 

The descent was even more delightful than the ascent, 
as the view was more extensive. The perfect road, 
level and smooth as the floor, clung to the side of the 
mountain, guarded by posts of stone : each long, winding 
curve showed some new beauty. 

The river Aar was always in sight in its valley 
bed ; although at that season an inconsiderable stream, 
its dull, glacier-tinted water suggested possibilities of 
strength and power from unseen sources. Before us 
lay the beautiful valley of Meyringen, with its clustered 
hamlets and solitary homes, in the midst of surround 
ings of great grandeur. 

Across the wide, green valley, where gray peaks and 
upright walls were the boundary, appeared to be the 
home of waterfall and cascade. The queen of all was 
the Staubbach, or Dustbrook, as it came tumbling over 
the edge of the cliff, and long before half of its leap of 
a thousand feet was accomplished, broke into a veil of 
shimmering mist and spray ; and upon this, rainbows 
played and fantastic forms appeared. Later we had the 
superb Oltschibach, and a sight of the Reichenbach, 
with its wonderful bound and curved down-dropping into 
atoms of brightness among the sombre-hued evergreens 
on either side. 

There were grand old woods whose shaded by-paths 
invited into glens where turf like velvet was bright 
with Alpine flowers, whose faces yet sparkled with the 
undried rain ; and beyond grew the mountain pine, 
whose breath is fragrance. 

Again the abrupt crag above us, and dropping as far 
below ; then a broad, overhanging rock, under which 



104 AFTERMATH. 

we passed ; next a terraced Alp, whose grassy sides were 
dotted by grazing flocks; the musical tinkle of their 
bells was the only sound that broke the silence, save 
the burst of some tiny waterfall from the bowlders at 
our right, or a cascade, dancing, foaming, bubbling, glid- 
ing over the broken masses of rock. 

To me, the most charming feature of all was revealed 
when in our zigzag ways we came to a shady, rocky 
nook where ferns grew, of undreamed-of luxuriance. 
Moss, nourished by the trinkling mountain rill, formed 
velvety drapery for rough stones ; over this, vines 
trailed and ferns nestled between, nodding their deli- 
cate fronds to each other across tiny threads of 
rivulets. 

Again, upon lichened rocks, dainty flowers bloomed 
in their brightness, moistened by the spray from a 
wandering cascade, rioting regardless of bounds ; then 
within a deep forest shade, fragrant with spicy odors, 
another vagrant waterfall made glad music, as it tum- 
bled from its home, and in foam-burst and mist sought 
a new course in hidden by-ways. Vines veiled the 
darkened stones, and mosses of vivid color lit up the 
enchanted recesses. 

Does such a showing of Nature in her loveliness ac- 
cord with your ideas of Alpine scenery.'' If not, raise 
your eyes, and behold her grandeur in the unending 
chain of cones, peaks, and needles which bound your 
horizon. 

It is in this unceasing variety that the charm of 
Swiss scenery is most apparent : from the quiet valley 
to the sublime heights where the torrents spring and 



BiiihviG PASS. 105 

the avalanche gathers force for its down-crushing ; from 
"green pastures and still waters" to solemn glaciers. 
Such diversity in a succession of landscapes made that 
day a gladness. 

It sometimes seems to me as if the mountains have 
voices which speak in accord with our mood. Are we 
troubled .'' In full sympathy with our depressed condi- 
tion stand the pitiless heights ready to crush us ; the gray 
rocks wear the sombre livery which blends with our sad 
feelings ; the sighing of the restless wind among the 
melancholy pines is only the echo of the storm raging 
within our soul, and whispers of mysteries, tragedies, 
crushing defeat, and hopeless sorrow. 

In another mood, when happiness floods our very 
being, we find additional joy and strength in the grand 
uplifting presence of the everlasting hills. The purple- 
crowned heights are sublime, but full of hope and glad- 
ness. We are thrilled with the song of a bird, and hear 
strains of melody in the rushing stream ; the gloom 
of yesterday is all brightness to-day ; the whisper of 
the pines breathes only blessing and cheer, as we await 
its message. The glamour of beauty rests upon all 
nature with the peace of a benediction, and we are lifted 
into a haven of calm repose, in the pure joy of simply 
living. 

" Our tender mother Nature, she has a word for each : 
To-day, or else to-morrow, she'll name you in her speech." 



1 06 AFTERMA 7//. 



XIV. 



GIESSBACH FALLS. 



" Gliding from ledge to ledge, from deep to deeper, 
Went to the under-world." 

It was our original intention to proceed at once to 
Interlaken ; but we were easily persuaded to so modify 
our plans as to remain at Giessbach over one night, to 
witness the illumination of the falls. 

Therefore when we arrived at Brienz, the terminus 
of the Brunig road, we went directly on board a little 
steamer, and crossing Lake Brienz, only two miles in 
width, were landed at the foot of the wooded height, 
down which come the seven cascades of Giessbach ; 
only one, the lowest, being visible from the lake. 

Far above us were hotels, to which a winding road 
led. As the ascent looked formidable, I took a chaise a 
porteitr, which was carried by two mountaineers; I en- 
joyed the novel experience greatly, and rejoiced at every 
turn that I did not attempt to walk, as the height from 
the lake to the terrace was six hundred feet. Upon the 
broad plateau stands a large hotel, and at one side and 
lower down is a second, built several years since, but 
which does not command as fine a view. The Giessbach 
was thronged with people ; guests crowded the porches 
and balconies ; new-comers were negotiating for rooms, 
and in every department were bustle and general activity. 



GIESSBACH FALLS. IO7 

In fact, the scene was similar to that at a New Eng- 
land watering place in the height of the season, and 
quite unlike anything before seen on that side of the 
Atlantic. 

In full view from the hotel and its surroundings was 
the little stream as it issued from the rock at the summit 
of the wooded elevation, 1,200 feet above the lake. The 
hill was particularly attractive, owing to the variety of 
shades in the foliage of the trees, shrubs, and vines which 
covered the slope ; forming a rich and variegated garni- 
ture for that charming bit of nature, amidst the impres- 
sive grandeur of the Bernese Oberland. 

We found the hotel delightful, and the attendance all 
that could be desired. The service was given by girls, 
who wore the national costume, which is exceedingly 
pretty. The dress is usually of some black material, 
with low bodice of black velvet, the yoke or collar cut 
square. The chemisette and full sleeves are of white 
linen, stiffly starched. At the shoulders, chains of silver 
are fastened, brought forward under the arms, hanging 
loosely to the waist, and then secured to the front of the 
bodice with ornamental clasps. The clasps are some- 
times of filigree, at others they are sets of Alpine crys- 
tals ; but in some variety are universally worn, being 
considered quite an essential ornament. Only among the 
extremely poor is steel substituted for silver. 

The night closed in with great darkness, and later, a 
fine mist fell. The spacious verandas afforded shelter 
for all, and seats were secured there long in anticipa- 
tion of the hour appointed for the illumination. At 
half past nine o'clock the great bell rang; then from 



I08 AFTERMATH. 

out the darkness a fiery rocket shot heavenward, fol- 
lowed after the interval of a moment by a second. 

When these signal lights had burned out, and all was 
again darkness, far above our heads, from out of the 
gloom of a starless night, burst forth a fairy waterfall ; 
then another above ; a third and a fourth below, light- 
ing the gorge as with a noonday radiance. 

The four cascades came down towards us in a bright- 
ness which made every leaf and twig visible : the first 
dashed between the evergreen banks like foaming sil- 
ver, and plunged from sight only to reappear as the sec- 
ond, with increased volume ; in the third, the broadened 
current wildly leaped the precipice ; in the fourth and 
last, the broken waters bubbled, seethed, and foamed 
amid the rocks; finally, with a rush and roar, the added 
impetus derived from diving into hidden abysses and 
secret clefts, disappeared beneath our feet. 

Gradually a sapphire brilliancy spread over tree, crag, 
and picturesque ravine, through which leaped an azure 
flood ; it lasted but a momen^, and then was changed : 
a series of ruby cascades descended with a glare too 
suggestive of war, bloodshed, and conflagration to be 
beautiful, though intensely dazzling in their fiery hue. 
Another transformation, and a giow like the glory of 
sunset diffused itself through the ravine. A glare as 
from molten gold was upon the rushing stream which 
poured through the bed of the cascades, and gold-dust 
for spray fell on tree, shrub, and rock. 

Yet the most beautiful was reserved for the last. By 
degrees, a vivid green enveloped every portion of the 
hill, chasm, and tumbling waters. It was of that exqui- 



GIESSBACH FALLS. IO9 

site emerald hue which suggests enchanted grottos, the 
nereids' home, and the cavernous depths where the mer- 
maids dwell. It was too beautiful to last : the brilliant 
hue died away in delicate opaline tints, faded into 
white, disappeared ; then, darkness. 

" With a new color 

The last still loveliest, till — 't is gone — and all is gray." 



no AFTERMATH. 

XV. 

INTERLAKEN AND THE JUNGFRAU. 

" Vast as mysterious, beautiful as grand, 
Forever looking into Heaven's clear face ; 

Types of sublimest faith, unmoved ye stand. 

While tortured torrents rave around your base." 

It was a short journey to Interlaken, by rail, through 
a recurrence of the scenery which the past few days 
had made so famihar. The little village, literally " be- 
tween the lakes," lies upon the plain, called the Bodeli, 
which stretches from Lake Thun to Lake Brienz. 

We went to the Hotel Victoria, a handsome house 
with spacious grounds, from which a fine view of the 
Jungfrau may be obtained at such times as her white- 
robed Majesty deigns to show herself. To our regret, 
the hotel was full ; apartments were shown us in a d^- 
pcndance, and remembering Him who was under similar 
circumstances cradled in a manger, in all humility we 
accepted the proffered rooms. 

Interlaken is a favorite resort for tourists, particu- 
larly the English. It was evident that the loyal subjects 
of the worthy queen patronized her namesake, as a 
thoroughly English air pervaded the house ; in the 
large, gloomy, uncomfortable drawing-room they were 
in full force, and there was no possibility of mistaking 
their nationality. 

The characteristics which distinguish an English 



lA'TERLAKEN AND THE JUNGFRAU. Ill 

gentleman are too well known to require any mention. 
In the case of the lady, even if one did not observe the 
ugly, broad-crowned satin hat, the illy shaped shoes, 
the dress of sage-green, faded drab, or other nondescript 
hue, there would still be one unfailing sign remaining : 
she can always be recognized by her stare. This dis- 
tinctive accomplishment of the majority of the English- 
women with whom we meet in travelling abroad has 
reached a degree of perfection which I trust will always 
remain unattained by the American women. As our 
humble names were registered along with lords, ladies, 
and other titled grandees, it is possible that the annoy- 
ing staring, which might be considered a rudeness in 
plebeians, was simply characteristic of the nobility, and 
one of the privileges of their exalted position. 

Interlaken has one fine avenue, the Hoheweg, shaded 
by grand old walnut-trees ; upon this are situated the 
largest hotels and the attractive shops. Between the 
oft-recurring showers I visited many of the latter, find- 
ing most exquisite carvings in wood and ivory, a great 
variety of Alpine crystals, delicate hand embroidery, 
and dainty netting. One is constantly tempted by the 
especial novelties displayed in each place visited, al- 
though not able then to fully realize how much more 
desirable they will appear when removed from their 
wholesale surroundings. It is often questionable if the 
little mementos, so painstakingly gathered, are not 
really more valuable to the purchaser than to those for 
whom they are designed. Not that our friends fail in 
appreciation of our efforts to please ; but upon the prin- 
ciple that the most troublesome child is usually the pet 



112 AFTERMATH. 

of the family, so the box or parcel, which is an addi- 
tional annoyance at every customs examination, which 
is daily packed and repacked when each inch of space 
must be husbanded, becomes after a few weeks, worth 
its weight in gold to the one taking such thoughtful 
care. 

As clouds were thick around and above, there was 
scarcely a hope of seeing the Jungfrau that day ; but a 
delightful surprise was in store for us. A short time 
before the sunset, we were hastily summoned. Across 
the Lauterbrunnen Thai, through a gateway of the 
nearer hills, we looked — not where we would seek for an 
ordinary height, near the horizon, but seemingly mid- 
way to the zenith, where the Jungfrau stood, with her 
icy crown and mantle of eternal snow, which shone with 
the brightness of whiteness. At her right was the 
Silberhorn, at her left the Schneehorn, while wooded 
heights appearing to belong to the same range made a 
striking contrast in color ; in reality, twenty rough 
miles lay between. 

If to my eyes, unaccustomed to mountain scenery, 
Rigi and Pilatus had seemed majestic, what could I say 
in that impressive presence .'* Only that standing in the 
sheltered valley, amid bloom and beauty, I had looked 
afar, where the queen of the Bernese Oberland fasci- 
nates with her imperial loveliness, though but a type of 
endless winter and desolation. 

With surroundings of grandeur and sublimity on every 
hand, commonplace amusements appear more than 
ordinarily ignoble ; but a rainy evening in a grand cara- 
vansary, though near majestic mountains, need not be 



INTERLAKEN AND THE JUNGFRAU. II3 

passed in sighing for the unattainable. It is certainly- 
better to be entertained by strangers than bored by 
yourself ; then, too, such an excellent opportunity to 
observe human nature and study national peculiarities 
should not be ignored. It would be impossible to men- 
tion a tenth of the amusing idiosyncrasies- noticed ; but 
in a general way, the gayety of the evening is worthy of 
portrayal. 

Shortly after dinner, the sound of music drew me to 
the drawing-room ; thinking that I detected the familiar 
tones of different wind and string instruments, I sup- 
posed that the musicians were in an adjoining room, and 
naturally ascribed any little peculiarities to the fact 
that it was foreign music. I realized my ignorance 
later, on learning that a species of hand-organ repre- 
sented the orchestra on that occasion. 

After the waste of much sweetness, a German couple 
stepped upon the floor, and were soon whirling in the 
rapid waltz so familiar to them. Several of the English 
soon followed their example ; affording — in those rare 
intervals when they were not colliding with the Ger- 
mans or each other — an opportunity for observing 
their method of dancing. If any can, "let these 
describe the undescribable " ; I shall not attempt it. 
Their dancing could hardly be called a dissipation ; on 
the contrary, each face wore a fixed look of determina- 
tion, a "do or die " expression, as they frantically gal- 
loped up and down the room, regardless of music or 
time ; or halting abruptly to disentangle themselves 
from a critical situation, resumed their wild chase. I 
wondered if in every mind the predominant thought was 



114 AFTERMATH. 

not concerning the length of time that it would be pos- 
sible to endure such violent exercise. 

. Even while wishing that the festive throng might 
have an opportunity of witnessing our style of dancing, 
my thought was answered by the entrance of one whose 
neatly fitting dress of black silk, and entire toilet, from 
the tie of her simple French hat to the tip of her 
dainty shoe, bespoke the American lady. Her sweet 
young face beamed with intelligence and animation ; and 
when at the proper moment, with her escort, she stepped 
upon the floor, and glided around the large room in the 
graceful curves of a quiet waltz, every eye was upon her. 
I overheard numerous comments : such as, " Who is 
she.''" "She must be an American" ; " I never saw any 
one dance like that!" Probably the latter statement 
was true, and the contrast between their own awkward- 
ness and the grace of the young stranger must have 
been a revelation. I trust that no one will be shocked to 
learn that I experienced a profound sensation of pride 
while watching my fair countrywoman. In each move- 
ment was natural grace ; but the charm of charms was 
in her seeming unconsciousness. 

While the significance of the difference in the two 
modes of dancing may not "point a moral or adorn a 
tale," I am sincerely hopeful that our English cousins, 
01 that occasion, comprehended the breadth of the 
chasm which separated their uncouth movements from 
the ease and polished elegance of the young lady from 
America. After she withdrew, the mad careering of 
the others continued; but as the entertainment was not 
sufficiently inspiring to win to the dissipation of late 



INTERLAKEN AND THE JUNGFRAU. US 

hours, I did not remain long, but soon walked meekly 
out into the night and sought my humble apartment. 

The following day was Sunday, and the morning 
dawned gloriously ; it was, in very deed, a day of rest. 
Attended morning service, and was delighted to find an 
American clergyman occupying the desk, my uncultured 
ears being thus assured of relief from the monotonous 
intoning common in all of the churches abroad. At 
four o'clock, a second service was held at the same 
church, and a new pleasure enjoyed in the privilege of 
hearing the bishop of Central Pennsylvania. In its deep- 
est sense, I appreciated the blessedness of that Sabbath, 
after passing so many "first days " which had seemed 
very like all other days of the week. There was the 
restful calmness of a perfect day, the joy afforded by 
the double service, and the charm of the continual 
presence of the white glory of the Jungfrau in her 
unclouded queenliness, 

" And her, whose throne is inaccessible, 
Who sits withdrawn in virgin majesty, 
Nor oft uuveils." 



Il6 AFTERMATH. 

XVI. 

BERN. 

" Once upon a time, there were Three Bears, who lived together in a 
house of their own, in a wood. One of them was a Little Small, Wee 
Bear, and one was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great Huge 
Bear." 

The above quotation, being considered sufficiently 
brilliant for an introduction to an article in one of our 
standard magazines, I am sure it will not be deemed 
unworthy in point of literary merit to serve as a signifi- 
cant heading for the little I may say concerning Bern ; 
that city which has, at least in legend, a mythical origin 
in which Bruin bore a conspicuous part. 

Bern is regarded as a characteristic Swiss city, hav- 
ing preserved its ancient and peculiar features more 
fully than any other of the large towns of Switzerland. 
In the old portion of the city the streets are very nar- 
row, and the houses are built partially over arcades ; 
beneath these covered galleries there is a paved way 
for pedestrians, upon which numerous shops open. The 
old houses are massive in appearance, being constructed 
of hewn stone, and look capable of resisting a siege. 

Throughout the city, the ornament most frequently to 
be seen is the bear ; if one had never heard of Bern, a 
few moments there would convince him that what the 
stork is to Holland and the ibis was to ancient Egypt, 
so is the bear to Bern : a species of tutelar deity. On 



BERS\ 1 1 7 

first entering the city, you observe, high upon the posts 
of one of the principal gates, two of these creatures of 
colossal size, cut in granite. They figure also on towers 
and pedestals in different parts of the city, and the 
bear is one of the chief devices upon the municipal 
escutcheon. 

For centuries, living specimens have been kept at the 
expense of the government; appearances indicate that 
no care or expenditure has been spared to render them 
comfortable. They live in a spacious den, with granite 
floor and walls ; the top finished with coping of cut stone, 
over which their visitors may lean and interview them 
with ease and safety. Their sleeping apartments are 
caves within the rock, furnished luxuriantly, as bears 
count luxury ; and reservoirs furnish bathing facilities. 
To add still further to their present enjoyment is the 
fact, that they are relieved from all apprehensions of 
poverty in the future ; a wealthy citizen having by 
legacy secured to themselves and their successors a 
competency. 

As a visit to the Clock Tower was on the programme, 
we timed our going in order to be present when the 
clock should strike two. A moment before the hour, a 
wooden cock gave the signal by crowing and clapping 
his wings ; then a troop of bears came out from a small 
door in the tower, and marched in front of the statue of 
an old man with a long beard, supposed to represent 
Time, and disappeared within a door upon the other 
side. The cock repeated his signal, the hour struck. 
Time turned an hour-glass, also marking the strokes by 
raising his sceptre and opening his capacious mouth ; 



Il8 AFTERMATH. 

at the same instant a bear at the right graciously bowed 
twice. Then a stone image appeared upon a balcony 
above the recent performers, and struck two powerful 
blows upon a large bell, with a hammer. The cock 
crowed lustily for the third time ; and as there was no 
reason to doubt that it was two o'clock, the crowd dis- 
persed. This performance always attracts many visit- 
ors ; it is said that there are those living within sight 
of the clock who have not for years missed an hour, 
unless unavoidably. It is really quite an interesting 
exhibition, and worth seeing as one of the curiosities 
of Bern. 

One of the largest fountains is ornamented with a bear 
in full chain armor : helmet on his head, sword at his 
side, and banner in his paw. The most famous one, 
however, is the Kindlifresser-Brunnen. This is sur- 
mounted by a monstrous, hideous ogre, in the act of 
devouring a child ; others, destined to the same fate, 
protrude from his pockets and writhe in his girdle. A 
troop of bears stand guard below, in most amusing atti- 
tudes. This is a large fountain, in one of the principal 
squares of the city; yet around the granite wall forming 
its base, a number of women were gathered engaged in 
washing, — rubbing, pounding, wringing, — all of the 
time accompanied with a lively flow of conversation and 
merry laughter. 

At still another fountain, a score of men, women, and 
children were engaged in washing bottles, regardless of 
the passers-by. The mentioning of these common 
street scenes may serve to give an idea of some of the 
customs, which strike the traveller as extremely novel. 



BERN. 119 

After exhausting the bears of Bern, the wood carving 
next claimed attention. The shops devoted to this class 
of goods are numerous, and the variety exhibited is unlim- 
ited. Aside from the specimens of ornamental carving 
to be seen in all of the Swiss towns, in Bern, the bear 
necessarily received due attention ; and I think we saw 
thousands of bears in wood, for every one before seen 
in stone. They included every size, age, and descrip- 
tion, and they were placed in every position or engaged 
in every occupation in which men could be imagined; 
many of the designs being very ludicrous. 

Back of the city, and one hundred feet above the 
Aar, upon a sandstone rock, where the fortifications 
were originally, the plateau has been transformed into 
a terrace or promenade, called Schanzli. From this 
commanding position a complete view of Bern and en- 
virons may be obtained, and also of distant and exten- 
sive mountain ranges. The outlook was superb, even 
though clouds obscured the view ; these, with the light 
mist which fell at intervals, dispelled all our hopes of 
seeing the Alp-gliihen, for which that position was par- 
ticularly desirable. 

Yet as we waited in the shadow, the rays of the low- 
ering sun struck upon the snowy sides of the distant 
mountains of the Bernese chain, and then touching their 
icy peaks, they were changed to gold. It was a beauti- 
ful scene, though only a suggestion of what " might 
have been " if the wonderful phenomenon of the glow 
of the Alps had been fully revealed. 



120 AFTERMATH. 

" Only far up in the blue sky 

A mass of clouds, like drifted snow 
Suffused with a faint Alpine glow, 

Was heaped together, vast and high, 

On which a shattered rainbow hung, 
Not rising like the ruined arch 

Of some aerial aqueduct, 

But like a roseate garland hung 

From an Olympian god, and flung 
Aside in his triumphal march." 

In the cathedral is a very fine organ, the rival of the 
celebrated one at Freiburg. As it is played at a regu- 
lar hour each evening during the summer season, we 
went at the appointed time to the old Gothic church, 
whose walls rose more than three centuries ago, and in 
the " dim, religious light " which prevailed, groped our 
way through the long aisles and among the clustered 
columns. That immense edifice of gray stone was feebly 
lighted by a few candles, placed within lanterns, which 
were fastened against some of the huge pillars ; the 
result being that the rays of light were not as conspicu- 
ous as were the broad shadows. The magnificent organ 
is over the vestibule, and the audience was seated at the 
opposite end of the church, directly in front of the altar. 
Possibly fifty persons were present, who in silence and 
semi-darkness waited. 

At last a master hand awakened the keys to life, and 
the full tones of the grand instrument flooded the build- 
ing. All agreeable sounds were included in the waves 
of melody, from the sweetest minor strains to the deep- 
est, richest chords. 

The selections were all beautiful, but the one descrip- 
tive of a storm was grand. The introduction was soft 



BERN. I2r 

and low ; then, mingling with the harmonious notes, came 
the prolonged sighing of the wind among the trees and 
the sound of rustling leaves, followed by the low patter 
of the first scattered rain-drops, the muttering of distant 
thunder, the break and fall of tiny twigs. Gradually the 
wind increased in violence, the rain fell faster, the twink- 
ling of the mountain brook became the rush of a wild 
torrent, and the rumbling thunder changed to a continu- 
ous roar. The rising gale whistled and shrieked as the 
down-pouring floods came more heavily. The fury of 
the storm increased ; there were terrific blasts of wind, 
succeeded by the crash of falling trees ; the thunder 
burst above our heads like the report of artillery, echoing 
in the vaulted arches of the dome, in growling, slow- 
dying murmurs like an imprisoned fiend. Peal on peal 
resounded, and each was supplemented by nature's own 
addition to the effect, in the vivid flashes of lightning 
which lit the cathedral with a dazzling glare ; for a gen- 
uine storm was raging without. 

By degrees the strength of the tempest subsided, 
the roar ceased, the rush of the dashing torrent again 
became the gentle murmur of the rivulet, and reviving, 
smiling nature spoke in strains of ravishing sweetness. 
The music was grand to the point of sublimity, and was 
listened to in almost breathless silence. 

" Till at last the work was ended, and no organ voice so grand, 
Ever yet had soared responsive to the master's magic hand; 
All the vaulted arches rang with the music sweet and clear, 
All the air was filled with glory, as of angels hovering near," 



1 22 AFTERMA TH. 



XVII. 



THE RHONE, GENEVA, AND LAKE GENEVA. 

" Thou royal river, born of sun and shower 
In chambers purple with the Alpine glow, 
Wrapped in the spotless ermine of the snow 

And rocked by tempests. . . . 

A king among the rivers : on thy way 

A hundred towns await and welcome thee; 

Bridges uplift for thee the stately arch, 

Vineyards encircle thee with garlands gay, 
And fleets attend thy progress to the sea." 

Lake Geneva, its picturesque scenery, and many 
associations of deep historic interest, with two days of 
rest and quiet enjoyment in Geneva, are pleasant mem- 
ories. 

To see Geneva in its completeness, it should be re- 
garded in the light of history ; but for such study the 
ordinary wayfarer has neither the time nor inclination. 
Yet the relations of past and present may not be wholly 
ignored, even in the most, hasty visit there. You feel 
that you have taken a step backward w^hen looking at 
the grim cathedral, whose towers rise among the tall, 
queer houses of old Geneva, now crowded back to the 
very hillside ; for you remember that there Calvin the 
Reformer preached, and also, from thence John Knox 
went out on his mission. 

Lake Geneva and the towns along its shores have 
furnished homes for many of the unfortunate and op- 



THE RHONE, GENEVA, AND LAKE GENEVA. 1 23 

pressed. At Ferney, Voltaire built his "little Para- 
dise," the hospitality of the people, as well as the charm- 
ing scenery, being his temptation. It was in the little 
hotel at Ouchy called the "Anchor" that Byron wrote 
some of his most beautiful poems, while nourishing his 
morbid fancies ; but it was at the Villa Diodati, out of 
sight of the lake and Mont Blanc, that he finished 
" Childe Harold " and wrote " Manfred." In the village 
of Coppet stands the villa in which the Neckars lived ; 
where Madame de Stael held her intellectual court, gath- 
ering about her an illustrious society. Between Ferney 
and Geneva is pointed out the chateau once occupied by 
the beautiful and famous Empress Josephine ; later, by 
the brilliant but infamous Lola Montez. 

Planted in deep waters upon a jutting rock rises the 
battlemented Castle of Chillon. The old fortress, it is 
claimed, was used for a prison as early as the ninth cen- 
tury, but owes its celebrity to the story so delightfully 
clothed in verse by Byron ; legendary though it may 
be, we all look with additional interest upon the walls 
which tradition says imprisoned Bonnivard, the heroic 
advocate of Swiss independence, for six long years. 
Towers and turrets, darkened by time, give to the ex- 
terior so dismal an appearance that one can readily 
believe that within are dungeons where "the damp 
vault's dayless gloom " was never lightened. 

De Saussure, the geologist, Merle d'Aubigne, the 
founder of the Free Church of Geneva and theologian 
of world-wide fame, a host of philosophers, scientists, 
and celebrities, have claimed this city as their birth- 
place, or in later days added to its intellectual fame 
and helped to make its history. 



124 A F TERM A TH, 

" Here the self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, 

first drew 

The breath which made him wretched." 

Here too, after his stormy life was ended, his native 
city honored his mad genius by calling the first little 
island in the Rhone by his name, and placing thereon 
his bronze statue, surrounded by a few tall jooplars. 

To omit a rhapsody upon this lake may seem like a 
pointed omission in one who has found so much every- 
where to enthusiastically admire. Remembering that 
Victor Hugo, Lamartine, Rousseau, and Voltaire have 
immortalized it; that Byron sang in sweetest strains 
the praises of its beauty, finding in its clear depths a 
warning 

" To forsake 
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring," 

I am content to indorse all their eulogies, and remain 
silent while my heart pays full homage to its charms. 

The deep tint of its blue waters has always attracted 
attention ; it is said to be even more noticeable in winter 
than in summer. The lake is certainly very blue, as is 
.he water of the Rhone at this point. The crystal 
purity of this sparkling stream is in decided contrast 
with the infant river, described by the ancient Romans 
as "issuing from the gates of eternal night, at the foot 
of the pillar of the sun." The last is a guide-book 
quotation, and I suppose that it is the poetical render- 
ing of the fact that the Rhone has its origin in a gla- 
cier. From this home it starts a feeble rill, but brings 
down its constantly increasing volume, travel-stained 
with plunging among rocks and grinding over mountain- 



THE RHONE, GENEVA, AND LAKE GENEVA. 1 25 

sides, to the southern extremity of the lake, which it 
enters a gray, turbid stream. 

Purified by its journey of fifty miles through the clear 
waters, it comes forth blue and sparkling, just by the 
quays at Geneva, and darts its arrowy current beneath 
the bridges, hastening on its course to the Medi- 
terranean. 

The old and the new cities, united by six long bridges, 
have a picturesque as well as a prosperous appearance. 
There are broad streets, massive quays, substantial 
buildings, and well-ordered pleasure grounds, with orna- 
mental fountains and statuary in abundance. Although 
the public edifices are neither numerous nor elegant, 
there are several that possess a claim upon our regard, 
apart from any architectural consideration. 

In many ways Geneva seems like a French city, 
that language being generally spoken and in its purity. 
Among the laboring class, the maids wear the tidy 
regulation cap, and the workmen the blue blouse, as 
in Paris. 

Among the unfamiliar street scenes noticed upon the 
Continent, with none was I more impressed than the 
appearance of the washerwomen. My recollection is 
that I was rather pleased with the sight, in passing 
through the Netherlands, of the women kneeling in 
little boxes by the side of canals and small streams, en- 
gaged in performing a very common task in a novel 
manner; but to see the shores of Lake Geneva and 
the banks of the Rhone appropriated to laundry pur- 
poses, while of interest as a feature of foreign travel, 
was still a blot upon a scene of beauty. With the 



26 



AFTERMA TH. 



promise that I will not allude to this subject again, I 
trust I may be pardoned for stating how the business 
is managed in Geneva. 

Long, open sheds, or covered boats, which can be 
anchored wherever it may be desirable, are the places 
used for this purpose. Near our hotel, in full view 
from the quays, the business streets, and the principal 
promenade, one of these boats was stationed, with its 
long line of boards extending into the water. There 
every day the women assembled in full force, and went 
through the various processes connected with washing, 
from morning till night ; among them, pounding the 
linen with a wooden paddle was a prominent and noisy 
feature. The business was accompanied by laughter, 
singing, and scolding ; also, as I found to my embarrass- 
ment on venturing near for a closer observation, with 
jest and merriment at the expense of the looker-on. I 
wondered if the swift-flowing Rhone never swept away 
in its impetuous race some valued article from the fam- 
ily wardrobe, a bit of linen, or a web of lace. 

I am reminded that English tourists, observing this 
out-of-door performance of what is at home considered 
a household duty, are very prompt in affirming that 
they are the only nation using hot water and soap for 
laundry purposes. Think of the cruelty of that libel, 
American housekeepers ! when we all know by actual 
experience that in every well-regulated home, fifty-two 
days in each year, some member of the household is 
doomed to a species of self-immolation within a room 
redolent with the odor of boiling " suds," and where 
the presiding priestess of that altar often reaches an 



THE RHONE, GENEVA, AND LAKE GENEVA. 12/ 

unenviable mental state while undergoing the process 
of being parboiled by heated vapor. 

Owing to the delightful situation of the Beau-Rivage, 
it was only necessary to lift the eyes to behold a scene 
of varied beauty. It was a charming landscape, in 
which the blue, rushing Rhone, Rousseau's Island, and 
the Bridge of Mont Blanc, formed the foreground. 
Looking across and beyond the old city, there were to 
be seen the ample slopes which nourish some of the 
richest vineyards in Switzerland ; farther, there were 
the wooded heights; and still onward, the wondrous 
Alpine world. 

Those Geneva days were like the summer that we 
left at home, so intensely warm that we were content 
to take sight-seeing in a passive way ; for the sun's rays 
beat down pitilessly upon every living thing, and the 
blue of heaven held never a passing cloud. 

Under such a sky, and through the soft haze which 
hangs over distant objects in such an atmosphere, I first 
saw Mont Blanc, —far away, but pure and bright with its 
own shining. 

" Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains : 

They crowned him long ago 
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 

With a diadem of snow." 



I 28 AFTERMA TH. 

XVIII. 

ONE day's journey. 

" O gift of God, O perfect day I 

Whereon shall no man work, but play; 

Whereon it is enough for me, 

Not to be doing, but to be ; 

Through every fibre of my brain. 

Through every nerve, through every vein, 

I feel the electric thrill, the touch 

Of life, that seems almost too much. 

And over me unrolls on high 

The splendid scenery of the sky; 

. . . steep sierra far uplifts 

Its craggy summits white with drifts." 

H. W. Longfellow. 

From Geneva to Chamouny is said to be the finest 
and most popular diligence route in Switzerland ; and as 
it is a full day's ride, the start must be made at seven A. m. 
Therefore, promptly at the hour, we were at the office 
of the Messageries Nationales, where we found a number 
of others in waiting ; at the appointed time, four dili- 
gences left the Grand Ouai, each with its complement of 
passengers. 

It is possible that every one knows just what a dili- 
gence is ; but I did not until that morning, — although I 
felt intimately acquainted with the vehicle before the 
day closed, and Chamouny was reached, a distance of 
fifty miles. I am not positive that I can clearly de- 
scribe it at this late day, but will make the attempt. 



ONE DAY'S JOURNEY. i2C) 

It is a large and very high stage; the seats ave upon 
the top, to which the passengers mount by the aid of a 
ladder. There are four wide seats which carry five 
each, and are protected by an awning open at the sides. 
The driver and guard occupy a position somewhat 
lower; the ladder, baggage of the passengers, and 
supplies for the horses are all carried within the body 
of the diligence. Thus arranged and with every availa- 
ble space filled, the load is drawn by from four to six 
horses. 

With all due respect for those companies in Switzer- 
land and Italy who adopt that style of vehicle almost 
entirely, I can but think that some inventive genius 
might improve upon it ; making it not only safer, but 
more comfortable and less taxing to the horses. Those 
were first changed, after we had traversed possibly fif- 
teen miles ; as the road for that distance was nearly 
level, they showed little fatigue. With the next relay 
it was quite different. The grade was .steep, and the 
utmost efforts of guard and driver, with voice and whip, 
did not prevent them from frequently coming to a dead 
stop, while their exertions were painful to witness. 

The gentlemen, in the hope of lightening their suffer- 
ings, often walked long distances ; the ladies doing the 
same on several occasions. Modesty forbids that I 
should mention the feats of pedestrianism which I per- 
formed that day ; but as mounting to my position upon 
the diligence was the most of an ascent that I made 
while among the Alps, I am duly grateful for the oppor- 
tunities which the day afforded. 

Our route first led through the new suburbs of 



I30 AFJERMATH. 

Geneva, where are many handsome villas, with orna- 
mental surroundings ; then through the gardens of the 
valley, the fertile farms, and little French villages, — for 
we were going into the province of Savoy. Fortunately 
for us, that frontier is exempt from impost, and for once 
we escaped the tiresome custom-house formalities. 

The scenery became more picturesque as we advanced 
towards Bonneville, a town of considerable importance, 
being the capital of the province. It is situated in the 
midst of a highly cultivated valley; on the right are 
rugged limestone rocks ; on the left, a wooded pyra- 
midal-shaped height, called the Mole, bounds the land- 
scape. The hard, smooth road wound among the 
fertile fields and through the picturesque hamlets until 
we crossed the river Arve, and commencing to ascend 
more rapidly, penetrated deeper into the gorge, as we 
realized by the narrowing of our boundaries. 

It was on that day that I saw for the first time those 
miserable creatures, the cretins. At every place where 
we halted, one or more would appear with outstretched 
hands ; each exhibiting, if not with pride, certainly 
with no appearance of shame, his particular deformity. 
When repulsed from one side of the diligence, they 
made all possible speed to gain the other ; in many in- 
stances we were followed by them for long distances, 
importunate for further alms. Nothing which I had 
heard or read concerning them had conveyed an idea of 
their repulsiveness ; the idiotic grin, the shambling gait, 
the misshapen bones, the pallor, and the hideous de- 
forming goitre told the sad story of their affliction. 
The prevalence of such a scourge, so widespread and 



ONE DA V'S yOURNE Y. I 3 I 

terrible, among the fertile valleys of the Alps, may well 
enlist the thoughtful attention of scientists and philan- 
thropists. 

Onward and upward as we went, we were never out 
of sight of the wildly rushing Arve. Bolder precipices 
shut us in ; immense barriers of rock seemed directly 
in our path and looked impenetrable. Over the craggy 
heights, beyond the river, stray mountain torrents 
leaped to join the stream so far below. 

Among the many, the beautiful cascade of Arpenez 
was a reminder of the Staubbach, though its fall was 
not nearly so great. But it poured over the cliff with 
just such a burst, scattering into atoms; those gathered 
themselves again and yet again, to tumble anew among 
the jagged rocks. That white, foamy, animated bit of 
nature was before us for many miles ; and its persistent 
efforts to bring together mist and spray to form a new 
current won our enthusiastic admiration. 

Higher and higher we climbed, and the scenery grew 
proportionately wilder ; great crags, bare and brown, 
towered hundreds of feet above our heads ; others, 
dropped as far below, down to the milky Arve, which 
dashed over the huge bowlders that formed its bed with 
an impetuous speed indicating power sufficient to sweep 
all obstacles from its path. 

We dove into tunnels, and crawled around dizzy 
steeps ; there were hours filled with a repetition of 
grand and impressive sights, to which no description 
can do justice. The freshness and sweetness of the 
high mountain air came to us through the firs that 
clothed the wooded crags near at hand, and we were 



132 AFTERMATH. 

fanned by the cool breath of glacier and ice field which 
reached us from afar. 

Then the cliffs opened, the valley seemed to expand; 
forward at the limit of the great gorge was 'an appear- 
ance of misty, mighty shapes, that were neither earth, 
sky, nor cloud. Gradually those took more clearly de- 
fined form ; a broad expanse of luminous whiteness was 
revealed. 

" To me they seemed the barriers of a world, 

Saying, Thus far, no farther ; 

And they before me still, oft as I looked, 

A strange delight, mingled with fear, came o'er me." 

I had seen Mont Blanc from Geneva, flooded in the 
noontime radiance of those perfect summer days, which 
brought to my very window the glitter of the blue-white 
mass fifty miles away. Now I realized that I was within 
the domain of the " Monarch of the Alps " ; not a faint, 
a doubtful view, but the king revealed in his glory. 

Surrounding peaks and domes resolved themselves 
into palaces and temples ; icy needles, those isolated 
pinnacles seen through a thin veil of silvery mist, were 
imploring fingers stretched heavenward. All around 
were uplifted heights ; between were the vast glaciers 
and the "Sea of Ice"; in the midst, white and shining, 
was the ice-crowned king, and his royal robe of ermine 
was everlasting snow. It seemed so- near heaven that 
the blue sky rested upon its white brow, as if in bless- 
ing ; so near earth that mortal eye might look upon its 
majestic beauty, without mist or vapor or fleck of pass- 
ing cloud between : yet so far, in its impressive majesty, 



ONE DAY'S JOURNEY. 133 

purity, and glory, that with a feeling akin to worship, I 
thought only "of the great white throne, and Him who 
sat upon it." 

" Who whispered unto us of life or death 

As silence dosed upon our hearts once more ? 
On heights where angels sit, perhaps a breath 

May clear the separating gulfs ; a door 
May open sometimes betwixt earth and Heaven, 

And life's most haunting mystery be shown 
A fog-drift of the mind, scattered and driven 

Before the winds of God ; no vague unknown 
Death's dreaded path, — only a curtained stair ; 
And heaven but earth, raised into purer air." 



134 AFTERMATH. 

XIX. 

CHAMOUNY, OVER THE TfiTE NOIR AND BRIEG. 

Entering Chamouny, at the close of that day of rare 
enjoyment, was going again into the world, into an 
immediate recognition of bodily wants, and into a full 
appreciation of personal comforts. We cannot dwell 
forever upon the heights ; and it is noticeable that in 
descending to common levels, we very soon forget recent 
stirring events, and even experience a positive relief in 
engaging in the most ordinary occupations of life. The 
day had been simply another of those delightful Swiss 
days, which I believe to be unequalled \\\ depth, breadth, 
and fulness ; but it was past, and although the contrast 
was great, it was pleasant to be quietly settled in com- 
fortable rooms in H6tel d'Angleterre, just by the clouded 
ice-stream whose erratic course we had followed from 
dewy morn to dusky eve. 

Still in our sight was the lordly Mont Blanc, while 
we rested in a well-filled, busy hotel, as I found on going 
upon the lower floor. There were weary tourists, return- 
ing from the day's lengthy expeditions ; new-comers 
were with great enthusiasm negotiating for mules and 
guides for the morrow ; and the general activity was a 
decided change from the experience of the day, spent 
among scenes of impressive grandeur. 

A lively atmosphere pervaded the crowded table d'hote; 
conversation in a half-dozen languages was to be heard 



CHAMOUNY. 135 

on every hand ; there were viands in season and out of 
season, — in fact, luxuries which one could hardly expect 
to find so far out of the world of traffic and trade. 

I fear that I have omitted to give to this delectable 
gathering of the guests of any hotel upon the Continent 
the notice which its especial attractions merit. The 
courses, from ten to fifteen, are certainly sufficiently 
numerous ; nevertheless, it is often a decided trial to 
the weary, hungry traveller to be obliged to go through 
a series of formalities, exhausting to the patience, but 
not appeasing to the appetite. 

By the time that one has tasted a little of this and 
a little of that, passing the intervals between a dozen 
courses in speculating as to what the next one will be, 
or still more important, of what it will be made, he is 
quite apt to feel as if much precious time was being 
wasted, without being followed by the desired result. 
As each article is served in solitary grandeur, accom- 
panied only by an abundance of ceremony, the traveller 
is inclined to the opinion that less style and dress coat 
on the part of the waiter, and more to eat on the part 
of the table, and promptly served, would be a very satis- 
factory arrangement. If he ventures to omit one course, 
invariably that omission becomes a source of deep regret 
when the next in order appears ; after spending usually 
two hours in that delightful manner, he leaves the dining- 
room, filled only with regretful longings for the substan- 
tial home table and its familiar viands. 

When another day came, I witnessed the morning's 
greeting to the royal mountain and its numerous satel- 
lites. The towering peaks, rending pinnacles, snow 



1 36 AFTERMA TH. 

fields, glaciers, and gorges welcomed the sun with 
warmth of color and radiance of shining, while Cha- 
mouny slept in the gray dawning. 

The fair promise of the early morning was unfulfilled ; 
as by the time that the little village was astir, clouds 
had gathered heavily. Mont Blanc was hidden by 
thick masses of gray vapor, and before long the rain 
fell ; showers were frequent during the day, most of 
them being accompanied by thunder and lightning. 
But as Chamouny weather is no criterion by which to 
decide what it might be upon higher points, parties were 
continually starting out on expeditions in different di- 
rections, seemingly regardless of the rain. I watched 
the several cavalcades as they wound away, in single 
file, with both interest and amusement. 

I visited during the day every accessible place in the 
village, collected views, and found ample occupation in 
observing the peculiarities of place and people. Cha- 
mouny, of itself, is insignificant; but its surroundings 
are incomparably grand. In unobstructed view are the 
lower mountains, which have at their base the rich 
green of the pine and fir, — above they stretch upward 
into great brown peaks, or sharp, glittering spsars ; the 
impetuous streams which course through the profound 
ravines ; grand glaciers that lift themselves into the 
sky ; and over all Mont Blanc, pure, vast, and sublime. 

It was decided that we should go to Martigny on the 
morrow, by the Tete Noir ; when the day dawned, we 
were overjoyed to find a cloudless sky, and promise of 
pleasant weather. An early hour was again a necessity ; 
therefore, not long after sunrise our party of six started 



CHAMOUNY. 137 

upon the rough ride. Two walked, while four were in a 
vehicle which in country parlance would be called a 
"double buggy." It was a dilapidated affair, and what- 
ever spring it once possessed was then a thing of the 
past. The seats were high and wide, and as to backs, 
there were none to speak of. 

The morning was perfect, the air was cool and bra- 
cing ; and as we drove away from Chamouny, we had 
glorious views of the mountains and glaciers that we 
were leaving. After possibly an hour had passed, our 
driver stopped his horses and said abruptly, "Dcscendes ! " 
Without question or argument we obeyed ; while he 
drove over the badly washed-out road and embankments 
with considerable difficulty, we made our way as best 
we might over hills and across fields. We passed quite 
near several women at work, who appeared to be greatly 
amused at the slow progress we made climbing the 
slopes; they seemed very steep to us, but undoubtedly 
to them were as easy to walk over as the level ground. 
We learned later that there was the veritable place 
where the owner of the land, in collusion with the driv- 
ers, had for some days exacted exorbitant toll from the 
passengers for the privilege of crossing his land. The 
interference of the government the preceding day alone 
prevented our being victimized. 

The road did not compare favorably with others that 
we had traversed ; on the contrary, it was rough, rutty, 
and stony. It was so narrow that by mutual agree- 
ment, all going from Chamouny and coming from 
Martigny meet at the summit of the Tete Noir; indeed, 
at no other point upon the route would it be safe to 
attempt to pass. 



138 AFTERMATH. 

Several times it became necessary to walk over ex- 
ceedingly rough places ; on those occasions I never 
failed to gather an abundance of flowers, as the sloping 
hillsides were thickly dotted with the white, delicately 
tinted lavender and yellow crocuses, that last day of 
August. Pressed between the leaves of my memo- 
randum some yet remain, along with buttercups and 
violets ; all mementos of that ever-to-be-remembered 
ride. 

Even in the most dangerous places, the road was in- 
sufficiently guarded ; often the posts which supported 
the protecting rail were partially washed out, as a result 
of the recent heavy rains, and hung outward over the 
ravine. The frequently seen track of the avalanche, 
which had roughly ploughed its way through forest and 
over cliff, while adding to the solemnity of the route, 
was not conducive to increasing our feeling of safety. 

The scenery grew constantly wilder; we crossed and 
recrossed the river Arve, which had lost all resem- 
blance to an ordinary stream, being in turn a brawling 
torrent, a wild cascade, and a thundering fall. The road 
climbed along the very verge of deep precipices, while 
across the rocky ravine pleasant farms covered the 
lesser slopes, variegated withthe hues of different crops 
and the yet standing grain. At times majestic peaks, 
\'ith sharp horns and jagged points, stood like guarding 
sentinels in our way; the brown rocks were seamed 
with fissures, and in the depth of the forest the pine 
looked almost black. The mountain pine, as seen 
among the Alps, possesses something which, for want 
of a better word, might be termed an individuality. 



CHAMOUNY. 139 

Whether standing alone, or ranged in serried rows 
where each one is precisely like its neighbor, the dreary- 
effect is the same. The solitary one becomes a senti- 
nel ; the others are gloomy troops, and " terrible as an 
army with banners." Looking as if only anchored upon 
the surface of the rock, yet they endure unmoved the 
storms of centuries. Only the rough voices of nature, 
the blast of the hurricane, the crash of the avalanche, 
and the wail of the dying gale can penetrate to the 
depths of the solitude where, like soldiers under mili- 
tary discipline, they await the hour of their downfall. 

Owing to the heavy condition of the road, our prog- 
ress was slow; and it was high noon when we reached 
the summit, having just before passed through the 
Pierced Rock, — that hewn gallery through the black 
crag, without which farther advance would have been 
impossible. For quite a distance before reaching that 
point, our path clung to a very narrow ledge, from which 
had it been possible to drop a plummet-line to touch 
the river or the little hamlet by its side, more than one 
mile of cord would have been required. 

We drew up to the Hotel de Tete Noir, as did all the 
conveyances upon the route, from either way, until the 
contracted pass was literally filled. Then a long delay 
occurred, and at last we learned that all arrangements 
had been changed, and that we were to finish the 
journey with an entirely different outfit and driver. 
This was not wholly satisfactory, but as our wishes had 
not been consulted, we decided that it was probably one 
of the customs of the country, and that it was the part 
of wisdom to be resigned. 



MO AFTERMATH. 

The hotel was a coarse, unfinished structure, and the 
appearance of the table, prepared in the one room which 
served for all purposes, enabled us to turn with due ap- 
preciation to the lunch brought with us from Chamouny ; 
this we ate and drank under peculiar and mirth-provoking 
circumstances, which none of the party can have forgot- 
ten. While waiting there, we saw two fine specimens 
of the St. Bernard dogs, that celebrated monastery being 
but a few miles distant. They were magnificent fellows, 
brown and white, with smooth coats and large, mild 
eyes. I cannot believe that it was fancy alone that 
caused me to see an expression of marked benevolence 
upon their faces, and evidence of more than ordinary 
intelligence in their eyes. 

We found that the change in the arrangements had 
neither added to, nor detracted from, our comfort ; the 
springless wagon seemed the twin of the one in which 
we had passed the morning, the horses were quite as 
fresh as the former ones, and the driver was only a 
shade less taciturn. 

Resuming our journey, our route led around the Tete 
Noir, through the grand but sombre forest of Trient. 
At the foot of the mountain ran the noisy river of the 
same name, which was soon joined by the Eau Noire ; 
we crossed the latter upon a bridge which looked quite 
too high and frail to deeply impress one with a feeling 
of safety. Occasionally the gloom of the dark forest, 
coupled with the silence which reigned, was oppressive; 
sometimes for miles there was no habitation or sign of 
human life ; there were depths which we penetrated 
from whence the only prospect was the sight of a dis- 



CHAMOUNY. 141 

tant aspiring height, or through an opening in the dense 
growth a glimpse of the world beyond. 

When we emerged from the deep woods, our descent 
became much more rapid ; a noble view was afforded us 
of the valley of the Rhone, which lay spread like a map 
at our feet, with the numerous villages upon its banks, 
and scattered over the plain. The necessity of constant 
bracing to avoid being thrown from the wagon, as we 
rattled over the stony road or flew' around curves upon 
the steep grade, was very wearisome ; the continuous 
effort required detracted materially from our enjoyment 
of the scenery, and none were sorry when Martigny was 
reached. There we rested and dined; later we took 
the train for Brieg, from which place the Simplon road 
leaves the Rhone valley. 

I was very weary the following morning; but not wish- 
ing to do any injustice to the Chamouny and Martigny 
route, am willing to admit that the distances necessarily 
traversed in my own room at Hotel d'Angleterre may 
have added to my fatigue. I should judge that its dimen- 
sions could not have been less than twenty-five by thirty 
feet; at all events, it contained three beds, the same 
number of wash-stands and bureaus, a large sofa, five 
tables, and an uncounted number of chairs, leaving an 
abundance of space. On first entering my apartment 
the previous evening, I found it extremely difficult to 
determine which bed to occupy; but finally selected one 
in the corner, as less lonely in appearance. 

Notwithstanding the pleasure of occupying an apart- 
ment of such magnificent proportions and so completely 
furnished, I felt no inclination to tarry there ; I was not 



142 AFTERMATH. 

fascinated with Brieg. On the contrary, I thought it 
the most inexpressibly lonely place that I had ever vis- 
ited. Not that its surroundings were unpleasant, for 
the village lies in a fertile, well-watered, and mountain- 
encircled plain. From the near hills, extensive views 
.may be obtained of glaciers and mountain ranges, in- 
cluding Mont Blanc and the peaks of the St. Gothard 
group. Brieg is a town of small importance, containing 
but a few hundred inhabitants ; it has an old church, 
but its most conspicuous building is the castle of the 
Stockalper family, whose four tin-capped towers rise 
upon a little eminence a short distance from the centre 
of the hamlet. 

To me there was an air of melancholy pervading the 
town, that was most depressing ; the atmosphere seemed 
stifling, as if pestilential odo:s were in every breath. 
Sitting upon the porch of the quiet country hotel, watch- 
ing the people on their way to church, that feeling was 
deepened. Wan, sickly looking men and women were 
the rule; and the majority of those who had reached 
middle life were disfigured by one or more goitres, mis- 
shapen and dwarfed. 

Brieg occupies the centre of one of the regions which 
is the most afflicted with the fearful disease goitre, and 
the still more pitiable one of cretinism. The poor crea- 
tures did not seem entirely destitute of sense, appeared 
perfectly harmless, and were roaming the streets witli 
entire freedom. Several drew near and gazed curiously 
at the strangers ; they mumbled and gestured, and I 
imagined that they asked for alms, although their mo- 
tions were too vague to be understood. 



CHAMOUNY. 143 

Such sights are a sad bhght upon scenes which so 
charmingly impress the traveller, and it is painful to 
even allude to this feature of Swiss travel ; but in order 
" to nothing extenuate," it must be touched upon in 
passing. 



1 44 AFTERMA TH. 



XX. 



THE SIMPLON PASS. 

" O'er the Simplon winds 
A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone 
Flung about carelessly, it shines afar, 
Catching the eye in many a broken link. 
In many a turn and traverse as it glides ; 
And oft above and oft below appears, 
Seen o'er the wall by him who journeys up, 
As though it was another, not the same, 
Leading along it knows not whence or whither. 
Yet through its fairy course, go where it will, 
The torrent stops it not, the rugged rock 
Opens and lets it in ; and on it runs, 
Winning its easy way from clime to clime 
Through glens locked up before." — Rogers. 

At sunrise we were in readiness to commence our 
two days' journey across the Alps. We had the desira- 
ble number of six, which was the complement for the 
carriage, having had a pleasant addition to our party, of 
two ladies and a gentleman from Central New York. 
The carriage was a clumsy affair, drawn by five horses ; 
and as is the custom there, one of the rear ones was 
ridden by a youth, while the cocker proper walked much 
of the way with whip and lines in hand. 

It is needless to mention that we left Brieg with the 
usual fusillade of whip-snapping ; in this art the post 
drivers of Italy become very proficient, and an exhibi- 
tion of their skill always accompanies an arrival or 



THE SIAIFLOy PAS 1 45 

departure. So, with flourish, shout, and loud report we 
were on our winding way ; for the ascent actually begins 
in the little village, which we soon left, to pass between 
meadows and fields of standing grain. 

The anticipation of crossing the Alps over the famous 
Simplon road had been long fostered ; and I was pre- 
pared in a measure to enjoy the novelty, variety, and 
grandeur of the scenes which the reports of travellers 
have represented as incessantly presented and incom- 
parably picturesque. 

The changes were constant ; from Brieg to Domo 
d'Ossola, it is stated that the road rises over 4,000 feet, 
and descends more than five. When but three miles 
from Brieg, we passed the first house of refuge ; of 
these there are twenty on the route. They were de- 
signed for the accommodation of travellers, as well as 
to furnish shelter for the large number of workmen con- 
stantly employed upon the road. 

Our progress was slow, for although the long curves 
caused the grade to appear less steep, the rise was con- 
tinuous, no level ground being reached for many miles 
As we leisurely ascended, the heights grew bolder, the 
scenery more grand and impressive, while the summit 
seemed unattainable. 

Something of a realization of the magnitude of that 
undertaking came to me, and as the hours wore on, I 
was fully convinced that the Simplon Pass was a more 
lasting and worthy memorial to Napoleon the Great 
than the beautiful crypt in Paris. In spirit, I bowed in 
homage to the superior mind that could conceive, and 
the persevering skill and ingenuity which, overcoming 
10 



14^ AFTERMATH. 

all natural obstacles, could consummate so grand a 
work. 

The road was smooth as a floor, without even a rut 
or pebble to mar its surface ; hewn from the solid rock, 
or when necessary built up in massive stone terraces of 
masonry, which hugged the mountain-side, up which 
we climbed in unceasing zigzags. The perpendicular 
wall, ribbed and rutted by the action of rushing water, 
towered on the one side far above ; on the other dropped 
as far below, to the ravine of the Saltine. The dizzy 
heights above the foaming torrent were spanned by fre- 
quent bridges ; dark tunnels pierced the heart of the 
projecting cliffs ; great galleries of stonework protected 
the road from the avalanches, which at some seasons 
come from unseen sources with fearful down-crushing 
power. 

The most dangerous place upon the entire 1-oute is 
between the fifth house of refuge and the summit. We 
are told that at this point the difficulties in the way of 
the construction of the road seemed insurmountable. It 
was necessary to suspend the workmen from the crags 
above with ropes while they built a platform, or in some 
other manner secured a footing. 

We penetrated the Glacier Gallery, above which the 
Kaltwasser comes from its icy source, rushing down- 
ward to the sheltering tunnel, leaping it at a bound, 
plunging with a deafening roar into the deep ravine. 
In going through the gallery, as we passed one of the 
openings it was completely draped by the water, spread 
but into a sheet of sparkling foam. 

Just before we arrived at the little hamlet of Simplon, 



THE SIMPLON PASS. 147 

a glance backward revealed a comprehensive view of the 
Rhone Valley, as far as Sion, with Brieg and her children 
of desolation nearly at our feet ; amid scenery of awe 
and grandeur we gave a parting look at the Bernese 
Alps, with their white crowns and glittering glaciers. 
The windings of the highway, so recently traversed, 
appeared like gray threads leisurely dropped from a 
skein, in their long, sweeping curves to and fro ; before 
and above us were other threads which seemed unat- 
tainable, for dark rocks barred our way, and the deep 
ravine lay between. 

After we had passed through the Algaby Gallery, we 
crept along the shelving side of the mountain wall for 
some distance, and at length came to a gorge, magnifi- 
cent in its gloom. Dark, beetling crags hemmed us 
into narrow bounds, where there was only road and 
river ; the falling verge touched the margin of the dash- 
ing stream ; before us. rose a cliff, tall, broad, and to all 
appearance impenetrable. But the rock opened, and we 
entered a tunnel cut through the solid mountain for 
many hundred feet. 

We emerged from that sombre cave, to behold a scene 
of unparalleled grandeur. At the right and the left the 
perpendicular rocks towered above us for two thousand 
feet, to meet the blue of heaven. In our very path 
leaped the lovely Alpjenbach Fall, then passed beneath 
the splendidly arched bridge spanning the gorge, to 
break into spray and foam, as onward it pressed to join 
the rushing river. It was the one glimpse of life and 
motion in the midst of the jutting crags that stood out 
black and threatening. 



148 AFTERMATH. 

Among those vast depths and immeasurable heights, 
what atoms were we ! Still follov/ing the insignificant 
path which clung to the precipitous wall, we went be- 
neath the projecting crags, and looked down where the 
frightful precipices fell away from our feet, to the mad 
Diveria, that seethed and bubbled in its cavernous bed, 
as it tumbled over the worn bowlders and the fresher 
heaps of debris left by the desolating avalanche 

It was about four o'clock when we passed the granite 
post which marks the Italian boundary ; and soon after, 
we stopped at the frontier custom-house. Arriving at 
the same time as the public conveyances, a long delay 
ensued ; for as they carried the mail, the passengers 
therein must receive the first attention. Although we 
had but touched the border of Italy, I felt sure that in 
the venders of fruit, and the beggarly troup of the lame, 
halt, and blind at once surrounding us, I recognized the 
characteristics of a different race ; and was still more 
positive that I observed peculiar traits as well as features 
in the swarthy-skinned, black-eyed, but handsome offi- 
cial who showed his fiery temper and his white teeth 
during the examination of the baggage. The delay did 
not prove tiresome, as ample amusement was afforded 
by those who were undergoing agonies of suspense 
while their trunks were being overhauled and their 
treasures inspected. Naturally, our enjoyment of the 
entertainment thus kindly provided was greatly en- 
hanced by the fact that none of our party experienced 
any difficulty. In some instances the surveillance ap- 
peared mercilessly severe ; it was upon one of those 
occasions that the merry young lady of the party drew 



THE SIMPLON PASS. 149 

upon herself the withering, angry glance of the high offi- 
cial, by her amusement at the expense of his wounded 
dignity. Woe betide the luckless individual who pre- 
sumes to enter Italy with any considerable amount of 
wood carving in his possession, as each piece is carefully 
weighed and appraised at a high rate. Tobacco and 
cigars are also particularly obnoxious articles of import ; 
but as far as my experience goes, I find that it is re- 
served for inspectors at Liverpool, the great seaport of 
cultured, exclusive England, to inquire of each lady 
tourist, "Have you tobacco, cigars, or scents .'' " 

There was also taken an accurate description of 
each private conveyance ; every little minutia regarding 
our horses and carriage was written out, and the driver 
deposited one hundred and seventy francs, to be repaid 
on his return with the same turnout. 

It was nearly sunset when we were again on our way, 
and the drive in th.e long twilight was very delightful. 
As it grew dark, the carriage lamps were lighted, and 
onward we went beneath the starry sky ; but the high- 
reaching crags on either side caused sky and stars to 
look very far away. The doubtful light from the flick- 
ering lamps only served to strengthen the shadows from 
rock and tree, until to my intensified thought the 
stories concerning the Italian banditti became verities ; 
I experienced no difficulty in selecting dark caverns and 
lonely shades adapted for their lurking-places, and was 
momentarily expecting to see several surrounding our 
carriage. 

Though vision was obscured, I knew that on the 
downward grade we rattled over bridges that were 



ISO AFTERMAIH. 

suspended high, that tall cliffs stretched away to the 
stars, and brinks fell away, I dared not think whither. 

At nine o'clock the twinkling lights of Domo d'Os- 
sola appeared, and soon we were driving through a long 
street ; the horses were encouraged to fresh exertions 
by lively exclamations and much cracking of the whip, 
as we rattled over the paved way through an arched en- 
trance, and were within the court-yard of Hotel de Ville. 
Landlord and obsequious attendants were in waiting, 
and we were at once shown up a flight of stairs upon 
the outside of the house, and into comfortable rooms. 

In the morning the peculiarities of the old hotel were 
still more apparent : for instance, an effort to find the 
dining-room resulted in finding ourselves in the kitchen ; 
from thence we were with extreme politeness escorted 
into the proper apartment. That opened on the court, 
as did every room upon the ground floor ; while around 
the second story a wooden gallery extended, forming a 
balcony for all those rooms. Not alone was the busi- 
ness of the hotel performed in this court, but it was the 
stopping and starting point for all the carriages and dil- 
igences over the Simplon ; with the management of the 
affairs of the hotel, settling of accounts, bargaining and 
planning between drivers and passengers, all being con- 
ducted at the same time, naturally there was much ac- 
tivity, and a general Babel was the result. 

The morning was bright and warm, and as we drove 
over the perfect carriageway, in its slight descent, we 
missed the bracing air of the past two weeks for the 
breath of summer came to us from the sunny land. On 
either hand were to be seen the dark-skinned peasant 



THE SIMPLON PASS. 15 I 

women busily at work in the fields ; they generally wore 
bright-colored dresses, little plaid shawls over their 
heads, or a very broad-brimmed hat, and the wooden 
sandals : those are only a broad, thick wooden sole with 
heel, and secured by a strap across the foot. Black- 
eyed children, not immaculately clean, were playing by 
the wayside, while the majority of the men seemed to 
be resting, either in the vicinity of the wine shops in 
the little villages, or in the shade of the trees in the 
country. A short time under the burning Italian sun 
causes one to feel more indulgent towards the indolent 
natives ; for the climate is enervating, and must test all 
powers of endurance. Convinced of that fact, I am still 
at a loss to comprehend how it is that the women are 
able to endure the burden and heat of the day, while 
the sturdy-looking men indulge in " sweet idleness." 

Most of the peasants had near their houses a field 
of corn ; it is of an inferior quality, a Turkish variety, 
which ripens forty days after planting. Many of the 
women were working in those fields, and many more 
were hatchelling flax, which was done with very rude 
implements. In Italy, as soon as the crops are gathered, 
the stalks of the corn, flax, or grain, whichever it may 
be, are hung across frames built for the purpose, and 
thrashed or prepared for storage as soon as dry, which 
requires only a few days in that atmosphere. As they 
have no barns or granaries, I suppose that the results 
of the harvest are stored, with everything else belong- 
ing to them, in the house. 

The mountains gradually withdrew into the back- 
ground as we went onward through the small villages, 



152 AFTERMATH. 

mostly stretched out upon one long street, the swarthy 
complexions and piercing black eyes of the inhabitants 
constantly affirming that they were the children of a 
southern clime ; on into a landscape whose foreground 
was olive groves, on which festooned vines wandered 
hung with the ripening grape. Looking backward, we 
could still see the glimmer of white upon the far-away 
peaks of Switzerland, from whose uncertain weather we 
were running down into summer days, where we ex- 
pected to be regaled with the fragrance of flowers and 
the rich odor of fruitage. 

One of the trials of the traveller is the necessity of 
turning away from the charms of some locality where it 
would be a joy to linger. I experienced that feeling of 
regret when, going down the outlying slopes of the 
mighty mountains, I realized that to look upon new 
scenes of interest was to bid adieu to the Alps. 

The charm of mountain scenery is like that of a lovely 
face, which changes with each passing emotion. A 
thousand variations appear in the mountain landscape : 
light and shadow, condition of the atmosphere, bright- 
ness of the sunshine, glow of its setting ; the morning, 
noon, and evening hour; moonlight and starlight, — all 
the influences which impress one's own mind, — are 
among the causes which produce each moment a varied 
picture. 

It had been evident all day that we were entering a 
more thoroughly Catholic country, as the wayside 
shrines became very frequent, and the crucifix was often 
to be seen on the higher points of land. The ability to 
represent in some manner the sorrow of the Mother 



THE SIMPLON PASS. 153 

and the anguish of the Son appeared to meet the de- 
mands of the rehgious nature of the ordinary Itahan 
mind ; those figures v/ere the most frequently seen, and 
usually in a coarse way indicated extreme suffering, and 
were often repulsive. The images were of wood or 
plaster, painted in bright colors, and the embellishments 
as incongruous as possible. The Madonna was often 
dressed in absurd attire, and profusely ornamented with 
flowers. Where those were lavishly bestowed, and the 
offerings from different persons at different times per- 
mitted to remain and perish under the scorching rays 
of the sun, the image would be covered with dry stalks 
and withered leaves, destitute of any semblance of 
beauty. 

Being far beyond the dividing line, and upon the 
sunny side of the bold barriers, we heard no more harsh- 
sounding, consonant-ending words ; all was changed. 
We passed Vella and Pallanzeno, Vogogna and Orna- 
vasso ; Gravellona, which is upon the Strona, and is 
joined at Omegna by a stream from the Lake of Orta, 
and finally falls into the Tosa. No more long windings 
of smooth roadway, but the level straight line leads us 
by the great granite quarry at Fariolo ; then we learned 
from whence came the handsome gray granite posts, 
sixteen feet high, and used for telegraph poles, which 
had for many miles attracted our attention. 

It was an added delight when Lake Maggiore came 
within our vision, and we were fanned by the fresh 
breeze across its blue waters. As we drove along the 
shore I could imagine no more delectable panorama 
than the one there unrolled : the cloudless sky, reflected 



154 AFTERMATH. 

in the clear lake, which had scarcely a ripple upon its 
smooth surface and no agitation of its clear depths : tran- 
quillity in the atmosphere, and everywhere luxuriance of 
foliage and mellowness of tint. Upon the shore slept 
the quiet villages ; upon the hill rested the long monas- 
teries, the isolated chapels, and the lonely shrines. On 
every hand, mingled with the vine, were groves of the 
almond, olive, chestnut, and fig. 

"And the promised land 

Lies at my feet in all its loveliness ; 

To him who starts up from a terrible dream, 

And lo! the sun is shining, and the lark 

Singing aloud for joy, to him is not 

Such sudden ravishment as now I feel 

At the first glimpses of fair Italy." 

Reaching Stresa, we went directly to the H6tel des 
lies Borromees, which is in a little park, surrounded by 
fountains and parterres, and fronting the lake, from 
which it is only separated by the pebbly beach. Within 
sight were anchored the four Borromean Islands, their 
rocky sides covered with rich verdure. Across the 
shimmering water, above the wood-crested hills, we 
still caught glimpses of a girdle of snow-crowned peaks, 
while we rested beneath a tropical sun. 



ISOLA BELLA. ^55 



XXI. 



ISOLA BELLA, 



" Landing soon 
Where steps of purest marble met the wave." 

The comfort and luxury of the charming hotel 
seemed doubly delightful, owing to the disagreeable 
anticipations in which we had indulged, concerning 
Italian cookery and room discomforts. 

After a brief rest, but two hours before sunset, we 
engaged one of the little pleasure boats with a gayly 
striped awning, and were rowed across to Isola Bella, 
the " Beautiful Island." 

Although the most wonderful of the four Borromean 
Islands, it is too thoroughly artificial to accord with my 
highest ideal of the beautiful ; but the worthy Count 
Vitalio, a member of the renowned Borromeo family, 
who lived in the seventeenth century, certainly suc- 
ceeded in converting a barren rock into a blooming and 
fruitful garden, which is a curiosity, both novel and in- 
teresting. 

This island, of small area, rises in a series of terraces 
one hundred or more feet from the lake ; and one can 
readily overlook the excessive formality and regularity, 
on seeing the massive crag which is made to uphold 
and nourish vegetation from every clime. Its ten ter- 
races are covered with fertile soil brought from the 



156 AFTERMATH. 

main-land, and upon them grow the lemon, date, orange, 
citron, fig, mulberry, and many other fruits ; while the 
laurel, magnolia, cedar, oleander, Chinese pine, palms, 
and other rarities from a more southern land add their 
grace and variety to the terraced hill. The upper plat- 
form is paved and guarded by a marble balustrade ; upon 
this and all other available places stand statues and 
groups, in marble and bronze. Against the walls of the 
lower terraces the fruit-bearing trees are carefully 
trained ; and mingled with them is a mass of verdure, 
where exotics and rare shrubs grow side by side with 
the evergreen and laurel. 

Near the water's edge in the crevices of the stone 
wall are many varieties of the cacti ; among them the 
gigantic-leaved aloe is very conspicuous. The Ameri- 
can aloe or century plant is thoroughly naturalized in 
the Italian climate, and grows with the same luxuriance 
as in more tropical regions. I am ready to admit that 
it is an imposing addition to a rocky wall or terraced 
slope ; but I have lost all regard for the aloe as a flow- 
ering plant since seeing several specimens in the per- 
fection of their growth and bloom. 

I had formed an ideal of the flower which would be 
an adequate return for a hundred years of sunshine and 
the sacrifice of the mother plant. The specimens that I 
saw had colossal leaves, and an immense stalk which 
rose to the height of forty feet ; but instead of being 
crowned with a grand, cylindrical pyramid of color, 
redolent of sweets, there was a slight approach to the 
anticipated shape, and that was all. Upon the radiating 
stems were tufts of greenish-yellow flowers, destitute 



ISO LA BELLA. 157 

of either beauty or fragrance. Those in a more ad- 
vanced stage had turned to a reddish brown, and the 
entire plant bore indications of rapid decay. 

Contrasting the visible result with my anticipations, 
I was readily reminded of the fable of La Fontaine, 
commencing, — 

" A mountain in labor announced the new birth 
With clamor so loud that the people all thought 

'T would at least bear a city, the largest on earth ; — 
It was merely a mouse that the incident brought." 

At the western extremity of the island stands the 
chateau. Its exterior appearance is not particularly 
imposing, although it contains some delightful rooms, 
in which royalty has often been entertained ; but I 
cared less for the apartment occupied by Queen Caro- 
line, the chamber in which Napoleon the Great had 
slept, and the collection of paintings, — more numerous, 
perhaps, than valuable as works of art, — than I did for 
the grottos. These are formed between the arches 
upon which the palace is built. The floors, walls, and 
ceilings are made entirely of the variously colored peb- 
bles taken from the lake, arranged in regular mosaic 
patterns. There are also decorations of shell and mar- 
ble. Numerous pieces of statuary standing upon pedes- 
tals of the same tessellated work added to the peculiar 
and pleasing effect. 

In these shady nooks, ivy and other vines draped the 
walls ; beneath, there were niches filled with a great 
variety of ferns and mosses, growing in exquisite 
beauty. 

" And the long fern swings down the slippery stair, 
Over thresholds curtained with maidenhair." 



158 AFTERMATfl. 

The enclosing wall of granite upheld vases of choice 
plants and blooming shrubs ; over the boundary climbed 
the wandering vines, dropping their long, graceful 
sprays into the calm waters. 

When we were ready to again take the boat we found 
awaiting our appearance, gathered upon and around the 
marble stairs, slatternly women and unkempt children 
who had fruits and flowers for sale. We were only too 
happy to avail ourselves of the opportunity thus afforded 
of purchasing delicious grapes and peaches such as be- 
fore I had seen only in visions. 

Shall I ever forget that return at sunset, gliding over 
Lake Maggiore .-' The sky was clear, the waters were 
calm and mirrored its blue ; the air was soft, and the 
scene one of tranquil repose. As the sun went to his 
rest, great billowy clouds of purple and crimson floated 
up out of the west ; towards the zenith those hues 
changed to amber and rose as they mingled with the 
blue. Over all was the gold of sunset, which no word 
can better define and whose radiant glow no painter can 
portray. A path of splendor led to the rose-trellised 
balconies of Stresa ; behind us the gently rippled water 
assumed a myriad of opaline tints. 

As we moved across the gleaming way, the sweet 
chimes of the vesper bells sounded soft and clear 
through the calmness of the hour. Evening fell slowly ; 
we floated over the placid lake until the phantom-like 
headlands and shadowy cliffs grew more unreal, as the 
mellow tints faded and twilight dimmed the scene, 

" And soft clouds creep 
O'er isle and wave like the wings of sleep." 



ISO LA BELLA. 159 

An elaborate tabic d'hote^ with elegant appointments, 
was not an unsuitable ending for that day of rare de- 
light and also great fatigue. It only confirmed the 
previously expressed opinion, that amid such scenery, 
and with such a pleasant hotel to receive us after each 
day's wandering, it would be a joy to linger for many 
days. 

The evening was made memorable by the surprise 
and pleasure of meeting a charming friend from the 
far-away land called home, and whom I left the follow- 
ing day among the Swiss-Italian lakes. 



l60 AFTERMATIT 



XXIL 

THE LAKES OF NORTHERN ITALY AND BELLAGIO. 

" Gray mists were rolling, rising, vanishing ; 

The woodlands glistened with their jewelled crowns ; 
Far off the mellow bells began to ring 

For matins, in the half-awakened towns." 

Although familiar with descriptions of Italian sun- 
sets, I have no recollection of having heard of an Italian 
sunrise ; however, I had the pleasure of witnessing that 
spectacle one September morning, as we were called at 
half past four o'clock, in order to take the steamer for 
Luino. That town is above Stresa, and upon the oppo- 
site shore of the lake ; the ride thither was very enjoy- 
able, through a series of lovely landscapes, which passed 
like' a panorama before our eyes, softened in the hazy 
morning light. 

At Luino we took a carriage for Lugano, upon a lake 
of the same name. The road wound upward among the 
steep hills for several miles, affording numerous oppor- 
tunities for still another parting look at the lovely Lake 
Maggiore we were so reluctantly leaving. Many women 
were at work in the fields securing the hay, others 
were beating flax ; as comparatively few men were visi- 
ble, I concluded that they were engaged in their usual 
occupation, " dolce far niaitc.'' 

At Lugano we again went on board a steamer and 
had a delightful sail "upon the dear little middle lake of 



LAKES OF iVORTHERN ITAL V A AD BELLA GIC. 1 6 1 

Italy's border three," across which came the cool, re- 
freshing breeze to subdue the noonday heat, as we 
passed a succession of scenes similar to those of the 
early morning. At short distances from the shore were 
numerous villas with delightful surroundings ; many of 
those lovely homes looked as if planted in the midst of 
groves of the fig, almond, and olive, while the vines 
that covered the sloping hillsides were left more to 
nature than in the more northern lands. Frequently 
the vineyards were planted among the trees, and upon 
their trunks and boughs the long branches wound, 
while the clustered grapes drooped beneath the arches 
of green. 

" The vines in light festoons 
From tree to tree, the trees in avenues, 
And every avenue a covered walk 
Hung with black clusters." 

Upon the opposite shore, wooded banks rose abruptly 
from the water, until nearing Porlezza, at the northern 
extremity of the lake, precipitous rocks towered high. 
Arriving at Porlezza, we landed and went immediately 
to the custom-house, as examination was necessary 
there. The official duty was conducted in such a man- 
ner as to leave many of the travellers indignant, as well 
as depressed. For instance, bouquets and small pack- 
ages of grapes were rudely snatched from the hands of 
ladies and thrown into the street ; one lady was obliged 
to abandon a valuable herbarium of Alpine flowers, care- 
fully prepared by herself. No explanation was given, 
or at least understood ; although a circular upon the 
wall, printed in Italian, was pointed out, as if there 



1 62 AFTERMATH. 

might be found the solution of the mystery. As none 
of those particularly interested nor the sympathizing 
lookers-on could read that language, there was nothing 
to do but to stare at the document and look as wise as 
possible. The cuts of small bugs among the printed 
matter suggested that possibly the apprehension of in- 
troducing some insect destructive to the vine was the 
cause of the insulting treatment. 

After considerable delay in securing a sufficient num- 
ber of conveyances to take the large party across to 
Lake Como, the procession at length started on its 
winding way. Only an accurate photograph could do 
justice to that array of vehicles and steeds ; I forbear 
any attempt at description. 

The drive was most delightful, through a repetition of 
the scenery which I have so often attempted to de- 
pict. 

" A glory of oleander bloom 

Borders every bend of the craggy road ; 
The lemon and spice tree with rare perfume 

The lingering cloud-fleets heavily load; 
And over the beauty and over the balm 
Rises the crown of the royal palm." 

Our enjoyment of an uninterrupted succession of 
beautiful views was intensified when from near Croce, 
the highest point between the lakes, a magnificent 
prospect was afforded, which included nearly the entire 
length of Lake Como ; and that superb view was before 
us the remainder of the drive to Menaggio upon the 
shore. 

Our destined point was Bellagio, which was two miles 
distant and across an arm of the lake. Still further 



LAKES OF NOR THERN ITA LY AND BELLA GIO. 1 63 

variety was given to our day's journeying by making 
that short distance in a gayly covered, cushion-seated 
row-boat, managed by two boatmen, whose powerful 
strokes bore us rapidly over the green waters of the 
lovely lake. The deep green tint of the water is said 
to be owing to its great depth, as at some points it 
settles in its rocky bed for two thousand feet. 

In regard to scenery in Italy, the land of poetry and 
song, there is but one style of composition, whose flow- 
ing numbers are adapted to the delineation of such 
natural charms. Longfellow's poetical description of 
the beauties of Lake Como must find a responsive echo 
in the thought of every one who has, like the poet, 
whiled away idle hours by this loveliest of lakes. 

" The hills sweep upward from the shore, 

With villas scattered one by one 
Upon their wooded slopes, and lower 

Bellagio blazing in the sun. 

" And dimly seen, a tangled mass 
Of walls and woods, of light and shade, 

Stands beckoning up the Stelvio pass 
Varenna, with its white cascade. 

" I ask myself. Is this a dream ? 

Will it all vanish into air ? 
Is there a land of such supreme 

And perfect beauty anywhere ? " 

Bellagio is justly considered as the most delightful 
among the many resorts with which the lake district of 
Upper Italy abounds. It stands at the head of the 
promontory which divides Lake Como into two arms ; 
the smaller taking the name of Lake Lecco. Our party 



1 64 AFTER MA TH. 

went to the Grande Bretagne particularly on account of 
its situation upon the shore.. There we found every- 
thing quite imposing, and deemed ourselves very for- 
tunate in securing apartments that overlooked the 
beautiful lake, and also showed us the charms of the 
opposite shore. ' 

During the evening we visited the rival hotel, which 
is upon the hillside. This pretentious home, formerly 
the palace of the Frezzoni family, is now, without loss 
of stately beauty, devoted to hotel purposes. I am sure 
that its external appearance would recommend it to the 
most captious traveller. Its extensive gardens, terraced 
slopes, marble balustrade crowned with vases of choice 
plants, seen under the bright rays of a southern moon, 
formed quite the stereotyped Italian scene. 

The specialty of Bellagio was olive-wood, and in our 
wanderings up and down the queer, arcaded streets of 
the quaint town, we looked into a number of the stores, 
which contained a variety, including every conceivable 
article which could be made of wood. It is probably 
unnecessary to add that from the enticing display 
some small pieces were selected ; these were placed in 
a trunk, from which they were resurrected at every 
frontier, price and full particulars given. This cere- 
mony, repeated frequently for two months, caused them 
to so increase in value that by the time New York was 
passed they were of inestimable worth to me. 

After we crossed the Italian boundary the number of 
priests noticeably increased ; the " shaven and shorn " 
were to be seen on all occasions. The dress of those 
seen in Northern Italy was invariably the same : a 



LAKES OF NORTHERN ITALY AND BELLAGIO. 165 

cowled robe of coarse brown stuff reached to the feet, 
which were sandalled ; the waist was girdled by a 
rope, and the head protected by a broad-brimmed hat. 
Whenever I saw one seated, whether upon car or boat, 
he was mumbling over his prayer book and telling his 
Leads. A rosary with cross hanging from the rope at 
his waist represented the ornamental part of his ward- 
robe. 

I have often heard the expression " odor of sanc- 
tity " : if it is the same as cabbage and onions, then the 
cloistered brethren possess that grace ; but if in very 
truth "cleanliness is next to godliness," I greatly fear 
that few of them are in a condition to be translated to 
a purer realm. But there is not the shadow of doubt 
in my own mind that a majority of the priests I saw 
while in Italy were entitled to have a degree conferred 
which would at once admit them to the brotherhood 
which the poet Gay termed " The unwashed Knights 
of Bath." 

The natives of Italy turn night into day ; and while at 
Bellagio, I was convinced that I had solved the mys- 
tery regarding the scarcity of men during the morning 
hours. Masculine Italy does not retire until daybreak, 
as they prefer the cool night hours for their pleasure. 
This opinion, the result of inability to sleep during the 
continuance of street carousal, was confirmed every sub- 
sequent night spent in Italy. 

" I heard strange music in the dead of night 

Passing the house I slept in; first it fell 

On slumber's ear like some faint, far-off sound, — 

The silvery purr of rivulets in the woods ; 

. . . . but the music grew, 

And so my sleep was broken." 



1 66 AFTERMATH. 

Looking from my window, I saw stationed at the 
landing, in front of the hotel, a large pleasure barge 
brilliantly illuminated by thirty round, variously colored 
lights. From thence came the sweet sounds ; I recog- 
nized the throb of strings, the sympathetic strains from 
wind instruments artistically played, and the mingling 
of many harmonious tones. 

The scene was enchanting : the placid lake reflected 
the numerous lights, and the sparkle of the far-away 
stars ; shapely boats lay idly on the water, or one moved 
quietly over the smooth surface, leaving in its wake a 
track of rippling light. Long gleams from windows on 
the opposite shore darted across calm waters, which 
mirrored every detail of the scene. To gaze upon Lake 
Como, brilliant under the intense rays of the moon, and 
at the same time to listen to the melodious strains borne 
on the midnight air, was to bid adieu to a world of prac- 
tical utility, and enter a realm of fancy, where Nature 
and Art, hand in hand, strove with beauty and song to 
beguile the stranger. 

The next day, on our way to Milan, still another 
opportunity was afforded for the full enjoyment of the 
incomparable scenery. Those hours upon Lake Como 
were an unceasing delight. The day was perfect ; a gen- 
tle breeze sprang up, which lightly rippled the clear 
waters and made the air delightfully cool. We passed 
by many of the elegant villas of the wealthy Milanese, 
which lie scattered along the banks, or farther back 
among the hills. Some were in the midst of gardens, 
gay with bloom, adorned with statuary, and gleaming 
with the spray from gushing fountains ; elaborately 



LAKES OF NOR THERN ITAL Y AND BELLA GIO. 1 6/ 

carved balustrades guarded the steps of marble which 
led up from the lake, and the rarest plants and flowers 
crowned the granite wall. Then another home, royal 
in its magnificence, was half hidden among the varie- 
gated foUage which clothed the hillside ; the vivid 
green of the glossy-leaved orange contrasting with the 
gray tint of the olive. Again, a garden and park, seem- 
ingly perfect in every detail, sloped to the massive stone 
wall draped to the water's edge, 

" And nameless twining vines so thick and nigh 
Unto the parapet, that unconfessed 
The stones lie hidden in luxuriance." 

The high walls that surrounded many handsome homes 
shut in much of beauty, and also served to shut out our 
possibly too curious gaze. But luxuriance of growth 
and a world of loveliness were more than suggested by 
the overtopping trees, laden with luscious fruit ; and 
the clambering vines which, refusing to be confined 
within bounds, hung their pendent branches adown the 
guai'ding wall. 

Vineyards climbed high upon the sunny slopes, rich 
with the promise of an abundant vintage. Then a vil- 
lage nestled close to the shore ; another rose upon a 
height towards which wound a narrow road ; shrines 
peeped out among the wooded hills, and Gothic chapels 
appeared now and again. Amid the extensive gardens 
and groups of ornamental trees could occasionally be 
seen the more tropical palm, proudly rearing its crested 
head in significant isolation. 

There were gorges, deep and dark, through which 



1 68 AFTERMATH. 

tumbled the foaming cascades ; there were abrupt crags, 
over which fell sheets of sparkling foam. Through rifts 
in the near hills we had glimpses of aerial heights, blue 
in the haze of that glorious day, that cast a glamour over 
every object. In fact, the whole ride was a continuation 
of the charming and varied impressions which have been 
constant since we entered Italy, and which every hour 
has aided to make an enduring memory. 

Como was, of necessity, only a stopping place, as 
relentless time pressed us hardly. I dimly remember 
some discomfort connected with dust and heat in Como; 
but I more vividly recall the fact that there are histori- 
cal associations which invest that ancient Roman town 
that never can be separated from its name, — one promi- 
nent claim to our regard being that it is well authenti- 
cated that it was the birthplace of the two celebrities 
of the Pliny family. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. 1 69 



XXIII. 

THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. 

** How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers ! 
This crowd of statue?, in whose folded sleeves 
Birds build their nests ; while canopied with leaves 

Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, 

And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers. 
But thieves and dragons on the gargoyled eaves 
Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, 

And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers ! 

Ah ! from what agonies of heart and brain. 
What exultations trampling on despair, 

What tenderness, what tears, what hate of wrong, 

What passionate outcry of a soul in pain, 
Uprose this poem of the earth and air, 

This mediaeval miracle of song." — H. W. LONGFELLOW. 

As we rushed across the Lombardy plains, this pin- 
nacled mountain of marble showed itself from afar, 
growing in grace, strength, and beauty as we drew near. 
It appeared as the radiating centre of the city as we 
entered its streets ; it seemed close at hand as we 
drove within the arched gateway of our hotel ; it tow- 
ered above and was visible from every point, whether 
we walked within the surrounding arcades or upon the 
open promenade. I saw it again at sunset, glorious in 
amber and gold, every pinnacle clearly cut against the 
glowing sky, and thought that it must be the most 
beautiful creation which had ever emanated from the 
brain of man. 



1 70 AFTERMA TH. 

Recalling how wondrous it seemed to me as I looked 
upward from the base, through the tiers of bass-reliefs, 
to buttresses, parapets, cupolas, and beyond to the sky- 
rending pinnacles rising like a forest of white masts in 
the blue, I admit that I am shocked at my own pre- 
sumption in daring to attempt anything of a descrip- 
tion of this pile of sculptured art, where every part is 
finished with an exactness of detail one could only ex- 
pect of the genius so lavishly bestowed upon the sons 
of Italy. 

The memory of that wonderful temple, as it first 
impressed me, remained in my waking thought and 
came as a vision of the night. Before that exquisite 
and poetical structure, all other cathedrals or other 
specimens of architecture ever seen sank into compar- 
ative insignificance. 

This magnificent building is not called by its name, 
as is the usual custom, but simply " The Cathedral of 
Milan " ; an appropriate naming for a structure so peer- 
less, so unique. 

Walking again and again around the great square, 
with eyes fixed upon that combination of strength and 
beauty, of grandeur and airy lightness, was only to 
attain to a condition of deeper bewilderment. Five 
hundred years of history, told in the writing of the 
chisel, which endures ; a religious record of ages, 
builded in fretted marble. As the original plans were 
lost centuries ago, each succeeding architect has given 
to the edifice whatever he might recognize as fitting, 
until from granite steps to topmost spire, with the 
crowning statue of Mary the mother of our Lord, it 
stands unrivalled. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. I^I 

Five handsome portals open from the broad steps of 
gray stone which cross the entire front. On either 
side of the central door is a colmiin of polished red 
granite thirty feet high ; these support an elaborately 
carved balcony containing colossal figures. Above is 
a window of rainbow hues ; within the arched space, 
in letters of gold, the words ^' Maria nascciiti," or, in 
its beautiful and poetical rendering, "To the Virgin 
who ariseth." 

Among the carvings that surround the doors are 
fruits and flowers ; the ash-tree, the plane-tree, the 
cedar-tree, whatever they may typify. Side by side 
stand colossal figures of Moses and John ; near are the 
symbolical figures of the Old and New Revelation. 
Two hundred groups and statues are on the fagade 
alone, which terminates in twelve steeples, each sur- 
momited by a gigantic form. In this marble population 
are mingled with the human saints and martyrs the di- 
vine and the ideal ; typical figures, as seen in the visions 
of artists, and brought down in the legends of ages, to 
be wrought out by the skill of the sculptor. 

From the base of solid masonry rise massive groups 
of pillars, with their epochs of history, telling the story 
of trials and temptations, wrestlings and triumphs ; 
mostly Old Testament narratives, which come back to 
us with the vivid meaning that they had in childhood, 
as we trace them along from the creation to the dawn- 
ing of the new dispensation. There are reliefs, telling 
in the patient chiselling of years some incident of his- 
tory. Colossal statues, standing alone, reveal another 
page. There are radiant windows whose arches and 



1 72 AFTERMA TH. 

angles are filled with later-day saints, apostles, and 
evangels ; other figures stand on latticed console or 
fretted bracket. Everywhere is pure, lustrous white 
marble, pointed, arched, and grooved, abounding in del- 
icate tracery and exquisite sculpture. 

' " In the elder days of art, 

Builders wrought with greatest care 
Each minute and unseen part, 
For the gods see everywhere. 

" Let us do our work as well, 

Both the unseen and the seen ; 
Make the house, where gods may dwell, 

Beautiful, entire, and clean." 

As the eye reaches the point where the roof springs 
back in its perfect slope, fierce, hideous heads appear ; 
the gargoyles, those grotesque representations of the 
evil, baneful things of earth. We recognize the eternal 
fitness of things in the builder's art, as we note that 
they are crowded out from beneath the eaves, projecting 
beyond any part of the hallowed edifice ; each shape 
thus becoming a purifying agent, bringing away from 
the white roof the dripping of the gentle shower, or 
increased volume of the heavy rain. 

From the lofty roof springs the seemingly interminable 
maze of carved pinnacles, attractive in their majestic 
height ; one longs to approach nearer, and see what he 
may bring away from that %vhite wilderness for his very 
own. The sacristan directs to the right transept ; from 
thence ascends a winding staircase with broad white 
marble steps ; when one has climbed one hundred and 
fifty eight of these, he will be among flying buttresses. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. 1/3 

beams, and pillars, all of marble and splendid with 
carving. Walks lead hither and thither over the stone 
flagging to little squares, in whose centres stand statues 
designed by such artists as Raphael, Michel Angelo, and 
Canova. The countless spires thrust their sharp points 
far above into the blue sky, that shows through the 
symmetrical tracery. Richly carved beams lead to the 
verge of the roof, and above the heads of dragons, 
crocodiles, and vultures are more uplifted pinnacles. In 
one enclosure, termed " The Garden," upon the great 
stone arches that round to the eaves, in addition to all 
the ornamentation mentioned is a profusion of leaves, 
flowers, and fruits, in thousands of varying patterns, 
faithfully copied by the chisel of the sculptor. 

Around and upward, in spiral coils within a turret, we 
ascend to another granite floor, and are now so near 
that we can easily see each crowning life-size statue, 
many of them being easily recognizable. With the 
saints stand warriors with lances, martyrs with crowns, 
heroes in armor, and a host of the great names of his- 
tory ; those who, noble by birth or ennobled by deeds, 
have thus won so grand a memorial. Napoleon I., in 
the zenith of his power, ordered the completion of this 
cathedral ; and for a time, gold flowed in freely in obedi- 
ence to his command. Great progress was made in the 
work, although the reverses which soon overwhelmed 
Napoleon prevented the fulfilment of his mandate. 
Upon one of the pinnacles over the great nave stands 
his statue, in the familiar dress, and with the air of 
thoughtful meditation so frequently seen in pictures of 
the Emperor. 



I 74 AFTERMA Til. 

From this point we can better appreciate the grace 
and lightness of each hollow spire, which holds within 
its carved niches eight, sixteen, twenty-four, or thirty- 
two statues, many of them being of rare workmanship. 
Standing in a labyrinth of these exquisite creations, 
we readily credit the statement that one hundred and 
forty of these latticed shrines of beauty lift themselves 
heavenward. 

In the centre is the vast cupola ; from the platform 
rise twenty-five encircling steeples, each surmounted 
by a saint, prophet, or martyr, the crowned and un- 
crowned of church history. Above those, angels and 
cherubs soar with outstretched wings, while the lesser 
intermingling points gleam with the light from golden 
stars. 

Towering still higher is the central, delicately pointed 
shaft, outlined against the sky, and bearing as the blos- 
som of this wondrous growth, at the apex of this ded- 
icatory spire, the golden figure of the Virgin Mother, 
bearing the cross and wearing the crown. 

To my mind there is a pathetic side developed as we 
study the church architecture of the Middle Ages : 
those massive structures of hallowed marble, ascending 
in a multiple of forms, symbolical of the church mili- 
tant and the church triumphant, are yet made up from 
fragments of patient toil, and the idea of individuality 
will intrude as we take the most superficial view of the 
complex design. Each portion finished speaks of the 
personal devotion of some one to that particular detail 
of the grand whole, which completed represents possi- 
bly the labor of years, by many a master hand long 
since crumbled into dust. 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. 175 

The finish and elegance of the interior correspond 
fully with the exterior magnificence. A wonderful vista 
is spread before the one who stands within the central 
door and looks down the five long aisles upon a land- 
scape of stone. The mosaic floor of variously colored 
marbles is the pavement ; clustered pillars are the 
stately trunks, from which wide-spreading arches branch 
to the vaulted ceiling and intermingle above the grand 
aisle ; the groined vaulting bears leaf, bud, and blossom 
in fine carving ; beyond float soft, gray tints in delicate 
fresco, which one can easily imagine to be the changing 
hues of the far-away sky. Each group of columns bears 
aloft a massive capital, which contains many sculptured 
figures. 

The twoscore windows have rich coloring in rainbow 
hues ; they are vivid or soft in the smile of the sun or 
the shade of the cloud, and speak to the eye as music 
to the ear, and charm with their harmony. The light 
which streams through the rich, dark glass is in turn 
ruby, emerald, topaz, or sapphire ; and as the shimmer- 
ing rays fall upon some portion of the grand nave or 
upon the network of carved foliage, they seem to give 
the radiance of the sunset glow or tint with the splen- 
dor of the autumnal shades. 

Three inscriptions span the arched doorways, and in 
their deep significance they are worthy of their exalted 
position. Above one is carved a beautiful wreath of 
roses, and underneath are the words, " All that which 
pleases is but for a moment." Over another is sculp- 
tured a cross and this inscription, " All that which 
troubles is but for a moment." The great portal of the 



176 A I- TERM A TH. 

middle aisle is circled by the grand central thought, ex- 
pressed in the words, " That only is important which is 
eternal." 

Near two of the great clustered pillars are elegant 
pulpits upheld by bronze caryatides ; these in one rep- 
resent the fathers of the Church, in the other the four 
Evangelists. Between them are exquisite bass-reliefs 
illustrating sacred history. 

On either side are chapels rich in marble, bronze, 
mosaic, and painting ; they also have splendid altar 
decorations of gold, silver, gems, and royal hangings. 
Stone tombs, sepulchral urns, carved oak confessionals, 
dark with age ; the walnut of the choir graven with the 
various symbols pertaining to the Roman ritual ; the 
rich ornamentation surrounding the superb windows ; 
vases and fonts of rare porphyry ; busts and statues in 
black, white, red, and Carrara marble, — all of those ob- 
jects abound, and are only a small portion of the aston- 
ishing display within the walls of this magnificent 
temple. 

In front of the high altar an elaborate bronze railing 
surrounds an opening in the pavement ; around this there 
are always to be seen some of the faithful kneeling in 
prayer, for below is the subterranean chapel of St. 
Charles Borromeo. A fee to the attendant, and a door 
was unlocked; we descended a flight of nine steps, passed 
through a doorway whose polished pillars were orna- 
mented with rich gilding on base and capital, and stood 
within a small octagonal room. 

Each of the divisions contained an alto-relief in silver, 
illustrating: the most noteworthy events in the life of the 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. ^77 

canonized bishop ; in the angles were caryatides, alle- 
gorical of his virtues. The altar was draped with splen- 
did tapestry ; cardinal silk of the heaviest texture was 
covered with embroidery in gold thread, following the 
designs of an eminent painter. Above and behind the 
altar was a bronze sarcophagus mounted in silver. An 
extra fee was given to the attending priest ; he added 
to his costume some churchy vestment of lace, made 
necessary changes in the ornaments upon the altar, 
reverently crossed himself, took a position at the head 
of the sarcophagus, and slowly turned a windlass. The 
bronze cover opened, and was folded from sight, re- 
vealing a casket of pure rock crystal, bound with sil- 
ver and ornamented with statuettes of the same metal ; 
it also bore the cipher of the royal donor, Philip IV. of 
Spain. 

The good man, the worthy bishop, the canonized 
saint, who relinquished all worldly ambition for the 
sake of the poor and suffering; who consecrated his life 
to the succor of the plague-stricken, selling his prince- 
dom for means to relieve their wants ; the zealous 
reformer, who, in the attempt to modify the abuses 
which abounded in the church of his devoted love, 
brought down upon himself not alone opposition, but 
murderous attempts were made, a conspiracy being 
formed against him among some of the brotherhoods of 
the priests, — the remains of this man, who throughout 
his whole life was an exemplar of meekness and humility, 
were there exhibited, clothed in full pontifical robes, 
stiff with gold embroidery and studded with glittering 
2,'eras. 



1/8 AFTERMATH. 

The feeble rays from the wax tapers flashed back in 
vivid brightness from diamonds; rubies, sapphires, and 
emeralds gleamed with brilliancy of color. In the cen- 
tre of the shrine was suspended a cross of almost price- 
less value, the gift of Maria Theresa. In the blackened, 
withered hand was held the pastoral staff, thickly set 
with magnificent jewels. Above the fleshless skull, 
with its dark skin and sunken eyes, rested in hideous 
mockery a crown of gold, a regal ornament, one radiant 
mass of precious stones. 

It was a fearful, a ghastly sight, — that shrivelled, mum- 
mified figure in the gorgeous robe and splendid gems ; the 
display of all the "pomp and circumstance" of glitter- 
ing show shockingly contrasted with the presence of 
the stern majesty of death. 

Thus the Romish Church proudly displays the mortal 
remains of one who has "put on immortality," for the 
sake of the francs to be added to her coffers. " To us 
it seemed so good a man, so kind a heart, so simple in 
its nature, deserved rest and peace in a grave sacred 
from the intrusion of prying eyes." 

We turned from the crypt, whose contents — exclu- 
sive of the saintly mummy — are valued at six million 
francs, to be besieged by hosts of beggars, who would 
draw if possible from the heretic, " for the love of the 
Virgin," some amount, that they may in turn donate it 
to increase the gorgeousness of the mausoleum of the 
worthy cardinal who died three hundred years ago. 
From such importunities a Protestant feels to turn 
indignantly away, strengthened in his detestation of 
a religious system that lavishes wealth upon tombs, 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN. 1/9 

or hides it away in treasure vaults, yet mercilessly 
wrings from the ignorant and credulous the pittance 
needed in their poor homes. It is confidently as- 
serted that the trifles thus accumulated enable many, 
who profess to stand as mediators between God and 
man, to live in idleness and revel in luxury. 

Nothing can be more diametrically opposed to our 
Protestant ideas of worship than its conduct in those 
great churches : the numerous altars, the images, the 
pictures, the hasty mumbling of the service in an un- 
known tongue, the bowings and turnings, the waving of 
the hands, sign of the cross, the hasty dropping on one 
knee and rising in the same manner, and all the cere- 
monial, which appears to us a succession of senseless 
mummeries. 

But I have seen poorly clad women kneel unmoved 
for hours upon the stone flagging of those chill 
churches, whose attitude and manner expressed so 
much devotion that I have felt to heartily rejoice that 
the lowly, the poorest, shut out from all of beauty else- 
where, might come into that hushed stillness and kneel 
to pray, wherever they would, unrebuked. Amid the 
purity and loveliness of the signs and symbols that sur- 
round them, they may comprehend some meanings and 
find rest and peace in the shelter of the uplifted power 
where they humbly bow in prayer ; the act of service 
may prove indeed to their needy souls " as the shadow 
of a great rock in a weary land." 

True, each may hold in her hand the rosary, over 
which the fingers glide as she numbers her different 
paters and aves, suggesting to us penance rather than 



l80 AFTERAfATH. 

prayer ; her gaze may be fixed upon the face of a smil- 
ing, expressionless Mary or a more repulsive image of 
the Man of Sorrows : but as we note the dress of pov- 
erty, the wan, hopeless face, and air of deep sincerity, 
we can but hope that her devout soul, worshipping in 
the true spirit, will find that for which it seeks, even 
though it be at the feet of a brocade and lace bedecked 
Virgin, with her silly face and paper crown. So, whether 
or no we are in accord with her particular form of wor- 
ship, we feel to tread lightly and reverently the hallowed 
court where the suppliant kneels, that no movement or 
sound may disturb the moments consecrated to humble 
devotion. 

In the Cathedral of Milan was a noticeable absence 
of the tawdry finery which so frequently abounds ; 
there was not one really ugly statue or coarse picture ; 
no wreaths or bouquets of unnatural paper flowers ; no 
hideous images of painted plaster with glittering 
crowns ; no altar trimmings of coarse muslin, coarser 
lace, and tarnished gilding. There was no one object 
so commonplace as to mar the beauty of the whole. 

Over one altar, in graceful sculpture, was a Madonna, 
white and lovely; in her arms was the beautiful child, 
the infant Saviour. In his perfectly rounded form I 
almost thought to see the movement of life. Upon her 
face was a look of wondrous love and peace, and with it 
an expression which was to me as a recognition of the 
mystery of motherhood from the human side. To gaze 
upon that and catch the depth and purity of its mean- 
ing would, I am sure, have the effect of weakening 
some prejudice in the stoutest Protestant breast and 



THE CA7HEDRAL OF MILAN. iSl 

touch the stoniest heart. It was so sweet, so saintly, 
that I could partially comprehend how the heart-hungry, 
ignorant soul could bow in homage at the Mother's feet 
and deem her almost divine. 

Notwithstanding there is a general resemblance in 
the appearance of the cathedrals built during the Mid- 
dle Ages, at least to one who possesses no architect- 
ural knowledge, there are differences felt, though too 
subtile to define. Therefore I cannot give my reasons, 
though the fact remains the same, that in my heart the 
Milan Cathedral holds the first place among the many 
grand old churches seen abroad. Noble, majestic as it 
is in its vastness, it possesses an additional charm in 
the effect of grace and lightness produced by the 
gleaming whiteness of the marble, in its color the 
symbol of purity. Its beauty and grandeur were not 
alone impressed upon my vision, but taking possession 
of my outward senses, were still more fully realized in 
spirit. 

" Oft h.^ve I seen at some cathedral door 
A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, 
Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet 

Enter and cross himself, and on the floor 

Kneel to repeat his pater noster o'er ; 
Far off the noises of the world retreat ; 
The loud vociferations of the street 

Become an undistinguishable roar. 

So, as I enter here from day to day, 
And leave my burden at the minster gate. 
Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, 

The tumult of the time disconsolate 
To inarticulate murmurs dies away, 

While the eternal ages watch and wait." 



1^2 AFTERMATH. 



XXIV. 

PASSING REMARKS. 

" Perhaps a truth 
Is so far plain in this, that Italy, 

Long trammelled with the purple of her youth, 
Against her age's ripe activity, 

Sits still upon her tombs, without death's ruth, 
But also without life's brave energy." — E. B. Browning. 

For years, in every article that I have read pertain- 
ing to Italy, more or less has been said concerning the 
necessity for the regeneration of that nation. Without 
attempting any elaboration of that idea, I desire to 
make a quotation from a paper in one of our leading 
magazines : " No nation tolerating such a system of rail- 
way administration as hers holds the germ of regenera- 
tion in its organization." 

I deeply sympathize with the writer in the experience 
suggested in the above sentence, and am fully in accord 
with the sentiment contained therein, as it enables me 
to state briefly that the reason why I did not see Genoa 
the superb, and visit the Leaning Tower and Campo 
Santo of Pisa, was entirely owing to the fact that Italy 
was still unregenerated. 

The numerous criticisms which are heaped upon Italy, 
owing to the general mismanagement of the entire rail- 
road organization within its borders, are usually concen- 
trated, as far as the ordinary traveller is concerned, upon 
the fact of his inability to go whither he would upon her 



PASS/JVC REMARKS. 1 83 

railroads, but the rather must go where the officials will ; 
all of which, and much more that is disagreeable, is too 
true to be pleasant, even in retrospect. 

Having been myself a victim to that necessity, I feel 
entitled to a certain degree of warmth in expressing my 
views upon the subject ; but am willing to waive that 
claim for the pleasure of alluding to one luxury con- 
nected with railroad travel in Italy, which seems to be 
overlooked by the majority of travellers. I refer to 
the station houses, which appeared to me to be models 
for buildings of that kind. They are frequently elegant 
structures of cut stone with ornamental cornices, niches 
filled with statuary, and a general look of solidity and 
comfort. In the interior are spacious waiting-rooms, 
floors carpeted or laid in marble mosaic, ceilings deli- 
cately frescoed, and the different apartments furnished 
with tables, sofas, chairs, and every requisite. 

Although I saw comparatively little in Italy that I 
would care to have copied at home, yet I would like 
to commend the comforts, not necessarily the ele- 
gances, of the Italian station houses, to the officials of 
two prominent railroads in my own State. At an im- 
portant station, two hours from the metropolis, where 
many changes are necessarily made by the passengers 
upon the rival roads, their patrons are frequently obliged 
to wait for hours in a room destitute of every comfort, 
and whose foul air, I greatly fear, would make an ordi- 
nary Italian ill. 

Pardon this digression, which followed an allusion to 
my disappointment in having only a dissolving view of 
two cities that I greatly desired to see. 



1 84 AFTERMA TH. 

For this seeming misfortune, ample compensation was 
received in the additional days spent in Rome, which 
were filled with the most satisfactory sight-seeing of my 
journey. It was with reluctance that I turned away from 
the Eternal City, where dingy modernism rivals the 
splendor of antiquity, and whose wealth of buried and 
unburied treasure is boundless. 

It was a glorious day, and although very warm for 
September weather, the seven hours' ride to Florence 
was really restful after the weariness of a succession of 
days, filled with the novel sights and interesting associa- 
tions with which Rome abounds. 

Our little party had a compartment to ourselves, if I 
except the tall, portly, black-robed priest. His presence 
proved no interruption to the flow of conversation, as 
after bestowing one glance upon his fellow-travellers, 
and carefully laying aside his shovel-shaped hat, he 
became to all intents and purposes absorbed in his 
prayers. He varied the monotony by occasionally read- 
ing from a small volume of Dante, and snuff-taking 
mingled uninterruptedly with both occupations. He 
read comparatively little, and retiu"ned with fresh zeal 
to his prayers after every such pastime. It was quite 
evident that he was behind in some of his duties, and 
those quiet hours must have enabled him to make some 
amends for past neglect. 

On leaving Rome, we passed over the ground which 
had once glistened with the showy mausoleums of con- 
suls and patricians, along by the wooded hills where the 
homes of the noblest Romans once stood, and near 
which the statues of their divinities raised high, or even 



PASSIiVG REMARKS. 1 85 

surmounting their heatlien temples, once bade defiance 
to the enemy ; over the military roads, where the con- 
quering armies had marched, and across the ground 
which had been the battle-field of ages. 

Everything seemed vague and misty that day ; his- 
tory appeared as a dead and buried myth, as we thun- 
dered through the hills beneath the very earth which 
had once trembled under the tread of the Carthaginian 
hordes, where the Roman legions had encamped, and 
where, among quiet lakes and peaceful plains, tumult 
and bloodshed had held high carnival. 

Later, we dashed through many tunnels which are so 
numerous on many of the Italian railroads, as to make 
the comparison " threading the tunnels like beads on a 
string " very appropriate. The warning notice to trav- 
ellers to keep heads and arms away from the windows 
suggested extremely narrow passages through the black 
rock. 

After we left the Umbrian Mountains behind, we 
were never out of sight of other ranges ; although upon 
the valleys the drought of summer had laid its desolat- 
ing blight, yet there were hills fair to see, green with 
the vineyards which no adverse circumstances seemed 
to seriously affect. They were the agreeable feature of 
the landscape in connection with the groves of the dusky- 
hued olive ;' they often grew in pleasing contrast side by 
side with the richer foliage of other fruit-bearing trees ; 
and over them all the wandering vine sprang from 
bough to bough, laden with incomparably fine fruit. 



1 86 



AFTERMA TH. 



XXV. 

FLORENCE. 

" The day was such a day 
As Florence owes the sun. The sky above 
Its weight upon the mountains seemed to lay 
And palpitate in glory, like a dove 
Who has flown too fast, full-hearted 1 " 

Upon the province of Tuscany natural advantages 
have been lavishly bestowed ; sheltered by the Apen- 
nines, watered by the Arno, both being favorable condi- 
tions which, added to the fertility of the soil and salu- 
brity of the climate, enable the smiling plains to be 
clothed in a garb of perpetual beauty. 

Florence, the chief Tuscan city, lies in the hollow 
formed by many hills, and is largely indebted to its sur- 
roundings for the beauty which has made it famous, and 
to which art has added its grace and power. Hemmed 
in by the varying heights of the Apennines, whose lesser 
hills are dotted with charming villas, and divided by the 
golden Arno as it runs on its seaward course, its situa- 
tion is extremely picturesque. 

The Arno is said to be a most capricious stream. At 
the time I saw it, the slaty, rocky bed was scarcely cov- 
ered with water, as it is always fordable in summer. At 
other seasons it swells into a fierce torrent, rises to a 
level with the embankments, and dashes wildly against 
the massive stone bridges whose piers seem to impede 



FLORENCE. 1 8/ 

its course. Inundations liave frequently occurred, when 
the city has been submerged to a depth of several feet. 

The very thought of Florence suggests loveliness ; 
its name has come down from the earliest centuries, 
and is supposed to have originated from the abundance 
of flowers, which brightened the hillsides and bloomed 
in the valley. It yet bears gracefully and truthfully the 
title " City of Flowers," though receiving others, such 
as "The Daughter of Rome" and "Athens of Italy." 
To the right of those suggestive names its claim is well 
established, even though it has not entered yet into its 
full inheritance, for within comparatively narrow bounds 
Florence holds vast treasures of art, standing in that 
regard pre-eminent among the cities of Europe. 

Where, as in Italy, there is such a wealth of painting 
and sculpture, where every church is a picture gallery 
and every palace has its maiseum, the traveller must 
necessarily lose the sight of much of value, owing to 
the abundance as well as the superiority of the works 
of art. Not only unlimited time, but a great amount of 
physical endurance would be required to see, even 
superficially, the choicest collections. By the time that 
the ordinary traveller has reached Florence, after weeks 
or months of continuous sight-seeing, he is surfeited 
with cathedrals and galleries, yet is again confronted 
by the necessity of making the weary round, in order 
to see those especial objects which have given to Flor- 
ence the fame of being one of the most artistic cities 
of the world. 

Florence has so many halls and galleries, that to even 
see the celebrities of each would be wearisome, there- 



1 88 AFTERMATH. 

fore I shall endeavor not to be tiresome with details 
which any guide book could give more clearly, but con- 
tent myself by alluding to a few among the many inter- 
esting works of art which I had the pleasure of seeing 
during my short stay in the city. 

Depressed with the knowledge of my own ignorance, 
as I mentally confronted the display awaiting me, I yet 
found an atom of consolation in the thought that while 
I knew so very little of art in general, and possibly still 
less of Florence, its growth, reverses, and rulers, I was 
not entirely unfamiliar with the names of some whose 
great deeds had helped to fill its records in the past, 
and with a few of the immortal works its sons had be- 
queathed to the world. 

Was not this once the home of Dante, Buonarotti, 
Galileo, and Savonarola ? Had not Petrarch, Ben- 
venuto Cellini, Leonardo da Vinci, and Lorenzo the 
Magnificent often walked these same streets ? Is not 
the model of womanly beauty to be found here in the 
sculptured Venus by Canova ? Can we not find here 
the portrayal of mother love in its perfection, where the 
divine and human meet in the expressive Madonna della 
Seggiola ? And to my thought came other names 
among the host of mighty masters, whose genius cre- 
ated those objects Avhich have placed Florence in the 
position she occupies in the art-world to-day. 

The first impression of the stranger is one of surprise 
at the abundance of effective statuary to be seen on 
entering the city. Every little piazza has its ornamen- 
tal fountain, stately monument, or group of figures. The 
Loggia de Lanzi, an arcade upon a public street, open 



FLORENCE. I §9 

to vision, sun, and an", has numerous arches which are 
supported upon Corinthian columns; within these are 
sheltered valuable specimens of ancient and modern 
sculpture. The celebrated Perseus by Cellini and the 
bronze Judith by Donatello stand there as representa- 
tive figures, executed by Florentine sculptors of the 
sixteenth century. 

Michel Angelo is so thoroughly identified with this 
place, that one finds his name associated with the ma- 
jority of its attractions. Assuredly, to those who admire 
the genius of the painter, sculptor, architect, and poet, 
no apology will need be made for the frequent mention 
of his name. In fact, it would be almost an impossibility 
to avoid doing so where the impress of his power and 
force of imagination are constantly realized. 

In accordance with my theory that it is wise to 
observe any strange city as a whole, before attempting 
to comprehend its details, the eminence crowned by 
the piazza Michel Angelo was selected as the point of 
observation, and naturally, I imagined there could be no 
more favorable outlook. It was a reminder of the moun- 
tain roads — traversed ages ago, it seemed, in remem- 
bering how much lay between — as we wound up the 
lovely hill in long, sweeping curves, and stood on the 
overlooking terrace. The view embraced city and 
valley lying in the rounded basin formed by the moun- 
tains, whose heights were variegated by the hues of the 
sombre-tinted olive, the pale foliage of the ilex, the blue- 
green needles of the stately pine, and the rich verdure 
of the groves of orange and pomegranate. 

Solitary monasteries among the trees, and charming 



190 AFTERMATH. 

country homes half hidden in the luxuriance of growth 
which surrounds them, are scattered upon the hills. 
Terraced walls uphold the vineyards that climb the 
heights, and these serried rows the practical hand of 
man has caused to serve the double purpose of beauty 
and utility. There is an appearance of abundant pros- 
perity in the scene, from the pleasant landscape at our 
feet, over the sunny slopes and rounded summits, be- 
yond to the distant mountains that bound our vision. 

The piazza on which we stand has marble seats and 
parapets, paved walks, clustered trees of poplar and 
birch, blooming parterres, and its crowning ornament in 
the colossal statue of David, copied from the celebrated 
marble of the great master, now in the Academy of 
Fine Arts ; the four surrounding statues being also 
copies of his works in the Sacristy. Beyond this 
terrace is the church and campanile of San Miniato, 
upon a hill of the same name. This is one of the 
churches built in the eleventh century, and is filled 
with interesting memorials of the past ; its facade is 
of variously colored marbles. 

Now vx^e turn to the city spread like a panorama be- 
fore us, with its bisecting, slow-flowing Arno and con- 
necting bridges, and notice particularly the galleried 
one which connects the Pitti and Ufhzzi palaces. 

Then we mark the conspicuous battlemented tower 
of the Palazzo Vecchio, which causes it to look more 
the fortress than the palace. Indeed, it was a veritable 
stronghold ; for from its tall watch-tower flashed forth 
the beacon light in the hour of danger, and the bell 
rang out its warning peal. 



FLORENCE. IQI 

The Campanile comes next to our vision, with its 
marvellous appearance of strength and lightness. Close 
at hand the peaked lantern of the Duomo cuts the blue 
of heaven ; and lower is the octagonal dome of the Bap- 
tistery, whose magnificent doors are marvels which my 
eyes long to see. This lofty tower is Santa Croce ; that 
graceful campanile belongs to Santa Maria Novella, the 
mystic bride of Michel Angelo. As this list might be 
extended to a great length, we will pass unnoticed the 
remaining two hundred churches in Florence. The 
objects enumerated are among the first and prominent 
features noticed ; then we observe, as in all the cities of 
the Old World, the mingled broad and narrow streets, 
the red-tiled roofs, the projecting windows, a confusing 
number of spires, belfries, turrets, domes, crosses, and 
flag-staffs : from some of the latter floats the banner of 
the Florentine lion. 

Without the walls of Florence, upon a slight emi- 
nence, is the Protestant cemetery, where among the 
many who there sleep their last sleep lie the remains of 
one whose name involuntarily rises to our lips, Mrs. E. 
B. Browning. Over her quiet resting-place the stone 
pine stretches its long arms, and the solemn cypress 
lifts its tapering spire heavenward. It is through the 
writings of Mrs. Browning, more than in any other way, 
that the English-speaking world has learned to know 
"this Florence of ours," to her the centre of "Italy, 
my Italy." It is fitting that she should lie near the 
shores of the golden Arno, in the home of her adoption, 
and where the happiest years of her life were spent. 
Her hope for Italy was boundless, and when believing 



192 • AFTERMATH. 

that the fulfilment of her desires was at hand, and but 
the master was needed to make of Italy a nation in 
deed as in name, how sweetly and trustfully she sang, — 

" This country-saving is a glorious thing ; 

And if a common man achieved it ? well. 
Say a rich man did it ? excellent. A king ? 

That grows sublime. A priest ? improbable. 
A pope ? ah, there we stop, and cannot bring 

Our faith up to the leap, with history's bell 
So heavy round the neck of it, — albeit 
We fain would grant the possibility 
For thy sake, Pio Nono." 

In her continued plea for a better future for her for- 
eign home, she did not hesitate to speak brave words 
against the papal power; giving her creed in the touch- 
ing words so dear to all Protestants, — 

" My words are guiltless of the bigot's sense ; 

My soul has fire to mingle with the fire 
Of all these souls, within or out of doors, 

Of Rome's church or another. I believe 
In one priest and one temple, with its floors 

Of shining jasper gloomed at morn and eve 
By countless knees of earnest auditors ; 
I hold the articulated gospels, which 

Show Christ among iis, crucified on tree ; 
I love all who love truth, if poor or rich 

In what they have won of truth possessively." 

The style of Florentine architecture is very peculiar : 
the majority of the palaces and churches are situated 
upon obscure streets, and so crowded by the surround- 
ing buildings that a complete view is impossible ; they 
must be seen in fragments. Among the ancient cus- 
toms in Florence was one of placing lanterns upon the 



FLORE A'CE. 193 

walls of the buildings ; some few of these are yet to be 
seen. They were called fanali, and were usually made 
of iron in a dainty pattern, and secured to the house 
corners ; in some instances they projected from the bal- 
conies. They were distinctive in the sense that they 
were only placed upon the homes of distinguished Flor- 
entine patricians, and usually bore upon them the coat 
of arms belonging to the family. 

The Pitti Palace is generally regarded as a fair speci- 
men of architecture in Tuscany. It was commenced in 
the fifteenth century by Luca Pitti, a Florentine trader, 
who, proud of his wealth, desired to show his power by 
eclipsing the magnificence of the Medicis, and at the 
same time humiliate his rival Strozzi, by building a 
palace sufficiently capacious to contain the entire ducal 
residence of that family within the court. Pitti was 
ruined, and the unfinished structure became the prop- 
erty of his hated antagonist, and after two centuries was 
finished by the family as we now find it ; its long arms 
still outstretched in readiness to absorb the lesser castle. 
Constructed of hewn stone, many of the blocks being 
huge in their dimensions, twenty or thirty feet long, it 
has the appearance of great solidity and is severe in its 
simplicity. It has neither columns, balconies, nor other 
ornamentation, if we except the few engaged columns 
upon the facade, which, however, are as massive and 
rugged as the remainder of the building. All is austere 
and immense ; in fact, the exterior has more the appear- 
ance of a governmental building than the residence of an 
aristocratic family. Like all the palaces built in those 
times, which must serve also for places of defence, it 

13 



ig4 AFTERMA 7 H. 

has small grated windows. The centre has three stories, 
which lessen to two, and from the corners where the 
parallel wings commence there is but one. The palace 
overlooks the Boboli garden ; there are spacious ave- 
nues with evergreen borders ; clusters of pine, laurel, and 
cypress form a delightful shade along the terraces and 
walks, among the blooming parterres and refreshing 
fountains; groups of fine statuary adorn the niches cut 
from the vivid green of the enclosing hedges, — all this 
variety of beauty uniting to form a charming retreat in 
the very heart of the city. 

The splendor of the interior is in striking contrast 
with the severe grandeur of the exterior. Although 
the Pitti Palace does not contain the variety which is in 
the Uffizzi Gallery, it is considered to have the finer col- 
lection of paintings ; this consists of five hundred select 
pictures, distributed through fifteen saloons. Each of 
these rooms is named for a mythological hero, and the 
ceiling, elegantly frescoed, illustrative of imaginary 
scenes in the history of the presiding deity. As every- 
thing in Florence, not associated with Michel Angelo, 
has the glory of the Medici family in view, these fres- 
cos are supposed to represent Cosmo I. ; commencing 
with his youth, he is attended by Aphrodite, Pallas 
Athene, Zeus, and all the Olympian deities. This 
series of apartments, open to the public, is filled with 
paintings of rare merit from the hand of such artists as 
Angelo, Raphael, Carlo Dolci, Fra Bartolomeo, Salvator 
Rosa, Andrea del Sarto, Rubens, Titian, Guido Reni, 
Tintoretto, and a host of others whose names were not 
"writ in water." 



FLORENCE. 1 95 

Among the delineations were seers and prophets, with 
the conscious power of far-seeing in their faces ; mytho- 
logical heroes and heathen deities, grand and imposing; 
coronations and entombments ; Madonnas and saints ; 
apostles and evangelists : until in the fourth hall, after 
long gazing at Guido Reni's Rebecca, I stood enrap- 
tured before the Madonna della Seggiola. Although 
one may think themselves familiar with it from copies, 
the original gives to the infant Christ and little John an 
unexpected beauty ; while the sweet, holy expression 
upon the face of the Mother seems like a new revela- 
tion, and holds depths of meaning. 

The Three Fates fascinated while it chilled ; Cleo- 
patra was beautiful enough to drive an Antony mad ; 
Rubens's Holy Family, Dolci's St. John, and a score of 
others remain fixed in my memory, each as a thing of 
beauty which will be a joy forever. 

Among the marbles I will allude to but two : the 
Venus of Canova, and a small bust of the first Napo- 
leon by the same sculptor. I simply make the state- 
ment without further remark, as I am well aware that 
they could attain no higher standard by any praise of 
mine. 

There were tables in every room which were marvel- 
lous works of art, made of malachite, jasper, and every 
kind of pietra dura. Some of them, with ground of al- 
abaster, had landscapes in mosaic. One exquisite piece, 
representing Columbus discovering America, was set in 
Spanish emerald, encircled with black marble. No de- 
scription can convey an adequate idea of the beauty and 
delicacy of the workmanship, and their value is fabu- 



I9'5 AFIERMA7H. 

lous. There were also cabinets of ivory filled with 
Sevres vases, artistic carvings, bronzes, intaglios, min- 
iatures, and specimens of the rarest stones. 

It was not my intention to mention as many of the 
priceless works of art within those walls, which, delight- 
ful to look upon, are rather a bore to read about. One 
becomes surfeited with such a feast of loveliness as is 
found there, and would need to go again and again, if he 
v^ishes to bring away more than a confused impression 
of grace, beauty, and wonderful gradations of color. I 
am confident that I will be pardoned, when I state that 
I shall refrain from alluding to other collections ; barely 
noticing the fact that we went to the Academy of Fine 
Arts, with especial reference to seeing the David of 
Michel Angelo, which, owing to repairs which were 
being made within the building, was visible under 
difficulties. 

Of the numerous Florentine churches, that of Santa 
Croce is the most famous ; it possesses an interest 
deeper than any associated with church architecture, 
cloistered halls, patriarchs and prophets carved in stone, 
or chapels rich in penitential gifts. It has been called 
the Pantheon of Florence, though more frequently the 
Florentine Westminster Abbey, because within its 
bounds are so many memorials to Italy's illustrious dead. 

" In Santa Croce's holy precincts lie 
Ashes which make it holier, dust which is 
Even in itself an immortality. " 

First, in the right aisle, is the beautiful and interest- 
ing monument to Michel Angelo. Upon the sarcopha- 



FLORENCE. 1 97 

gus are the three allegorical figures of the sister arts, 
Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, each with her 
appropriate emblems. Above these figures is the bust 
of the gifted man ; and reaching midway to the ceiling 
is an elaborate finish, in which marble drapery, angelic 
figures, reliefs, and a central, handsome painting are a 
portion of the details. 

The monument to Alfieri was executed by Canova, 
as that poet holds a high position in the annals of 
Italian literature, the sculptor appropriately placed a 
figure by his tomb, symbolical of Italy mourning the loss 
of one of her sons. That memorial becomes doubly 
interesting when we learn the romantic fact that it was 
erected by the orders of a fair lady of noble birth ; it is 
said that she was his inspiration to the day of his death, 
and to her lasting friendship the poet touchingly alludes 
in some of his latest writings. 

The tomb of Machiavelli also has an allegorical statue ; 
in his case, the pensive female figure represents Paint- 
ing, in grief at the death of a gifted son. 

Galileo's monument has been pronounced by critics 
the worst one in the church ; that comparison in any 
of those old churches would be a very significant crit- 
icism. I only recall the statue of the Tuscan philoso- 
pher, holding astronomical instruments in his hand ; 
his attitude suggesting that he was supposed to be 
delivering a lecture ; two emblematical statues at the 
head and foot of the sarcophagus are represented in 
most absurd and unnatural attitudes. 

The cenotaph to the exiled Dante is of such recent 
date as to be a reproach to Florence, being evidence of 



198 AFIERMATH. 

her tardy recognition of one of her ablest and noblest 
sons. Over the empty tomb the laurel-crowned Dante 
is figured, sitting in an attitude of pensive thought, 
with closed book in his hand and silent harp by his side. 
Fame points upward to the divine poet, and the genius 
of Poetry leans weeping on his tomb. 

" Happier Ravenna ! on thy hoary shore 

honored sleeps 
The immortal exile." Rogers. 

" Henceforward, Dante, now my soul is sure 

That thine is better comforted of scorn. 
And looks down earthward in completer cure. 

Than when in Santa Croce's church, forlorn 
Of any corpse, the architect and hewer 

Did pile the empty marbles on thy tomb." 

E. B. Browning. 

At the extreme end of the church are a number of 
chapels, containing the usual amount of relics, paint- 
ings, and statuary. On every hand the accepted sym- 
bol of this church is visible. It stands out distinctly 
in the little chapel where it is held by St. Francis in the 
picture of that saint ; it is graven in the gable ; it is 
repeated upon every confessional ; it is over the grand 
entrance in bass-relief ; and upon the roof it is borne 
high by bronze angels. 

In the square in front of Santa Croce is the colossal 
statue of Dante. Crowned with the laurel the poet 
stands, while at his feet sits an eagle, and at the corners 
of the pedestal crouch the lions of Florence. 

There are two conspicuous landmarks of the city 
from whatever point it is viewed : the profoundly grand 
cathedral dome and the lofty watch-tower of Palazza 



FLORENCE. 199 

Vecchio. The walls of the latter are covered with the 
devices, the emblazoned arms of the republic as it was 
centuries ago ; and with the gigantic statues standing 
guard at the door, are thoroughly characteristic of Flor- 
ence in the days of her power. The square, imposing 
tower of stone rises above the battlemented roof, with 
the severity of style befitting the time when every 
public edifice and each ducal home were alike planned 
for defence. This is situated on the Piazza della Sig- 
noria, which is still, as it has ever been, the political 
centre of Florence. 

Here is the Fountain of Neptune, where the sea-king 
stands in his triumphal car, surrounded by nymphs, 
satyrs, mermaids, and tritons. The limpid waters have 
flowed for centuries upon a spot, alas ! indelibly stained 
with human blood and sacrificial fire, for this fountain 
covers the spot where occurred one of the most mourn- 
ful and tragic events of history. Here Savonarola 
breathed his last sigh, among those whose cruelty and 
injustice could in no other way be appeased. The sub- 
lime character of the man who resisted unto death the 
corruptions of the religious system under which he was 
reared must render his name immortal, 

"Now that you are in Florence, go 

To San Lorenzo, — the church, you know, 

Holds Michel's miracle carved in stone : 

The brooding figure that under the shade 
Of his monk-like cowl, severe and lone, 

Watches you till you grow afraid 
It may step from its niche and ask you why 
You dare intrude, with a curious eye, 
Thus on its dark domain of thought." 



200 AFTER MA TIL 

It is necessary to visit this church in order to see the 
monuments designed and executed by Michel Angelo, 
which stand second only to the David, his masterpiece. 
As we enter the new sacristy, near the door is an un- 
finished group of Virgin and Child from the same hand. 
The tall, draped figure of the mother supports the infant 
upon her hip ; the flowing robe follows the graceful 
curves of the body, and the attitude is one of careless 
ease ; the face, though incomplete, expresses submission 
and exalted love. 

On the right and left are the tombs of Giuliano and 
Lorenzo de Medici. These monuments are similar in 
design ; upon the white marble sarcophagi are recum- 
bent figures, representing allegorically Dawn and Even- 
ing, Day and Night. The attitudes express nothing of 
repose, but the rather expectancy, energy, and suffering. 
These figures have been greatly admired, but the one 
called "La Notte " the most of all; in that an owl is 
placed at the feet of an extended figure of a woman, 
whose position indicates extreme weariness, and who 
appears to be sleeping the sleep of exhaustion. Heavy 
cornice, fluted pillars with Corinthian capitals, finished 
in an elegant manner, form a niche within which is 
seated the statue of Giuliano. He is represented in the 
dress of a Roman general partially in armor ; his head 
is turned to one side, and gazing into the distance, to the 
observer he appears to be listening intently and watch- 
ing for something to come. 

Lorenzo is seated in a duplicate niche over his tomb ; 
his face is partly hidden by an overshadowing helmet ; 
the chin is supported by the hand as if he was absorbed 



FLORENCE. 201 

in deep meditation, while the finger upon his lip is im- 
pressive and almost tragic. One is struck with the idea 
of deep, hidden strength in a suffering hero ; the expres- 
sion being that of one born to command, yet forced to 
submit. An art critic says of these statues : " Nothing 
in modern statuary is equal to them, and the noblest 
antique works are not superior." 

"Three hundred years his patient statues wait 

In that small chapel of the dim St. Lawience, 
Day's eyes are breaking bold and passionate 

Over his shoulder, and will flash abhorrence 
On darkness, and with level looks meet fate, 
When once loosed from that marble film of theirs ; 

The Night has wild dreams in her sleep, the Dawn 
Is haggard as the sleepless, Twilight wears 

A sort of horror; as the veil withdrawn 
'Twixt the artist's soul and works had left them heirs 

Of speechless thoughts, which would not quail or fawn, 
Of angers and contempts, of hopes and loves." 

Upon the pedestal of Night the sculptor wrote : " Sleep 
is sweet, and yet more sweet it is to be of stone, while 
misery and wrong endure. Not to see, not to feel is my 
joy. So wake me not. Ah, speak in whispers." Do 
not those lines speak eloquently of his love for Florence 
and his agony of despair at her downfall .? All that he 
strove to forget \i\ physical weariness and intellectual 
toil ; bringing out from senseless stone, in obedience to 
the promptings of his genius, exalted heroes and suffer- 
ing men. 

The Medicean Chapel, as every one is supposed to 
know, was designed to receive the sepulchre of Christ ; 
but as the Medici, with all their wealth and power, failed 



202 AFTERMA TH. 

to wrest that treasure from the hands of the infidels, the 
second Cosmo completed the chapel, and devoted it to 
the purpose of a family mausoleum. It is the most 
elaborate and costly room that can be imagined. Its 
shape is octagonal, and the beautiful dome which sur- 
mounts it is elegantly frescoed in the usual series of 
Scriptural scenes. The colors are vivid, exquisitely 
blended, and one can study the paintings with con- 
stantly increasing delight. The floor is inlaid in many- 
colored marbles, and the gorgeousness of the walls is 
indescribable. The lofty sides of this grand ducal mau- 
soleum are entirely sheathed in the finest marble, inlaid 
with Oriental agate, jasper, verde antique, lapis lazuli, 
malachite, alabaster, mother of pearl, coral, chalcedony, 
and other rare stones. These form intricate designs, 
and the entire surface is polished until it reflects like a 
mirror the splendors of the coloring within the dome. 
These decorations are unparalleled in richness. Among 
them are placed the shields, heraldic devices, coat of 
arms, and every vainglory of the Medici family; these 
are executed in the finest Florentine mosaic, great skill 
being exercised in the arrangement of the stones, that 
the shading of the emblematical designs may be perfect. 
Cenotaphs and memorial tablets bear the names of those 
whose remains are in the crypt below. 

The Duomo of Florence is a colossal building in the 
form of a cross, and with its stately swelling dome 
excites admiration and interest. Its close surroundings 
prevent one from having a complete view, and naturally 
make it difBcult to form a correct idea of its magnitude. 
The e.xterior is incrusted with a m.osaic of black, white, 



FLORENCE. 203 

and green marble. The fagade is still unfinished ; as 
the expense is to be borne by private subscription, lists 
for that purpose are conspicuously displayed upon the 
church. As an inducement to give liberally, all are 
notified that a donation of five thousand francs will 
entitle the donor to have his name graven upon the 
finished front ; that, in the eyes of a true Romanist, 
would be considered equivalent to having it recorded in 
the " Book of Life." 

The interior seems delightfully cool as you enter from 
the glare of an Italian sun ; the windows are small, and 
composed of minute bits of stained glass, very old and 
of deep, rich colors, casting a beautiful but subdued 
light throughout the grand interior. The noble simpli- 
city of this church is its greatest charm ; it is delightful 
to visit a church which is not also a museum. The 
monuments are few, which is in decided contrast with 
the majority of the European cathedrals. Giotto, Bru- 
nelleschi, and others, whose architectural skill made the 
Duomo what it is, have memorials here. 

There still hangs over one of the altars the portrait 
of Dante, which was for many years the only testi- 
monial of "ungrateful Florence" to her exiled son. 
The tessellated pavement is of red, blue, and white mar- 
ble, and according to custom it is claimed that the 
design was by Michel Angelo. 

The cupola, which surpasses in height and circumfer- 
ence the dome of St. Peter's, is supported upon so much 
lower a base that it is not easy to credit the fact, which 
is, however, well authenticated. This is effectively 
lighted by round windows, and the fine frescos within 



204 AFTERMA TH. 

the dome show to admirable advantage. Directly be- 
neath the cupola is the high altar, and behind that is 
placed the last work of Michel Angelo ; this piece of 
statuary was intended for his own tomb, and represents 
Joseph of Arimathea removing the body of Christ from 
the cross. Dying before its completion, the Church 
with her usual zeal took charge of the unfinished group. 
The feeling is wellnigh universal that the rough block, 
from which the master was chiselling his thought when 
death arrested his hand, would have been a most appro- 
priate monument for his last resting place in Santa 
Croce. 

Close by the Duomo stands an elegant structure of 
Grecian architecture, 

" Completing Florence, as Florence Italy " ; 

Its grace being so remarkable that its comeliness has 
passed into a proverb. " Beautiful as the Campanile," 
is the comparison the Florentines use when they wish 
to speak in highest praise of any object. It is a square 
pile, combining lightness and grandeur ; lofty as it 
seems, it is incomplete, still lacking its finishing spire, 
designed to add thirty feet more to its hight. 

"Giotto's tower, 
The lily of Florence, blossoming in stone, 
A vision, a delight, and a desire, 
The builder's perfect and centennial flower 
That in the night of ages bloomed alone." 

The Campanile is as graceful and delicate as it is 
solid and strong. It is covered with white, green ser- 
pentine, and red marble of Perugia, arranged in a check- 



FLORENCE. 205 

ered pattern. This complicated design has not suffered 
materially from the ravages of Time ; although the 
brightness of its hues is mellowed, they are still per- 
fectly distinguishable, and its five centuries seem to 
have passed lightly over it. 

The sculptures and bass-reliefs embrace a great range, 
and are by no means confined to religious subjects. 
The Evangelists are there with their symbols; the 
niches upon the other sides are filled with saints, 
prophets, and sibyls, four of each ; underneath are the 
reliefs of the virtues, sacraments, works of mercy, and 
beatitudes. Below these is the history of Grecian cul- 
tivation and human progress. There are a number of 
tall, Gothic windows and dividing columns ; great vari- 
ety is given by the introduction of delicate mosaics of 
intricate design within every available space. Near the 
ground, mosaic of glass is inserted behind the sculp- 
tured figures, in order to render them as distinct as pos- 
sible. 

It is claimed that the Baptistery is the primitive 
church of the city, as its consecration to Christian service 
dates from the sixth century ; the original building was 
used prior to that time as a place for heathen worship. 
This church is small in size, octagonal in shape, and 
constructed of alternate blocks of black and white 
marble. Many of the mosaics within the cupola are 
said to have been wrought by artists brought from 
Greece during the ninth century. 

The famous bronze doors or gates are a mass of 
elaborate reliefs, which would require long and patient 
study to comprehend in their fulness. The first one 



20O AFTERMAT/l. 

was made by Andrew of Pisa, and its beauty created a 
great sensation. The other two were by Ghiberti, who 
was wholly unknown when he offered his designs to 
compete with the most celebrated artists of the era. 
The drawings of three of the competitors were so fine 
that the judges found it extremely difficult to render a 
decision. To the honor of the three rivals, it is stated 
that during the time that they awaited the final deter- 
mination they held a short conference, and reported 
to the arbiters of their fate, in respectful but earnest 
language, that in justice to art they should one and all 
decline to receive a prize while a design so peerless and 
unique as that of Ghiberti was ignored. Such an act 
of disinterested generosity ought to stand on record as 
a perpetual rebuke to the spirit of unworthy jealousy 
among rivals in any profession ; the fact certainly gives 
an added grace to the consecrated edifice. The result 
of that protest was that the drawings of the obscure 
goldsmith were carefully inspected, and Ghiberti received 
the commission to execute the doors in accordance v/ith 
his elaborate designs ; to the work he gave forty years 
of his life. 

Upon one door is a series of Scriptural scenes, mostly 
from the Old Testament; this is set in columns of por- 
phyry, now seamed and worn by the wear of ages. The 
other is an illustrated history of the life of Christ. Each 
separate design is carried out with elaboration of detail, 
and the figures are exquisitely fine. Around this gate 
is a lovely frame, also in bronze, where amid the luxuri- 
ance of foliage and flowers which fill the wrought 
branches are graceful birds, in the different positions of 
repose and flight. 



FLORENCE. 20/ 

These unrivalled doors of bronze stand exposed to all 
the changes of the weather; upon the delicate figures 
and in the interstices the dust from the busy street is 
constantly settling, marring the perfection of their 
beauty. Standing in the doorway, on the opposite side 
of the street rose the roughly boarded front of the 
unfinished cathedral, above which the grand dome 
swelled in majestic proportions ; above and beyond 
towered the Campanile, within whose uplifted height 
swing the clear-sounding bells with their call to prayer. 

Amid all this imposing grandeur, and art in its full- 
est development, came the thought of the pathetic and 
beautiful significance attached to this little church of 
John the Baptist. This little octagonal gem of archi- 
tecture is consecrated to a holy, lofty purpose which 
touches every mother's heart. Here every little child 
born in Florence is duly brought, held before the silver 
altar, and from the font of rare workmanship is taken 
the water, symbol of purity, to be placed upon its sinless 
brow, as the sign and seal of all Christendom, in the 
holy ordinance of baptism. 



208 - AFTERMATH. 



XXVI. 

VENICE. 

" There is a glorious city in the sea : 

The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, 

Ebbing and flowing ; and the salt sea-weed 

Clings to the marble of her palaces. 

No track of men, no footsteps to and fro, 

Lead to her gates. The path lies o'er the sea, 

Invisible ; and from the land we went, 

As to a floating city, — steering in, 

And gliding up her streets as in a dream. 

So smoothly, silently, — by many a dome 

Mosque-like, and many a stately portico, 

The statues ranged along an azure sky ; 

By many a pile in more than Eastern splendor, 

Of old the residence of merchant kings ; 

The fronts of some, though time had shattered them, 

Still glowing with the richest hues of art, 

As though the wealth within them had run o'er. " — Rogers. 

Early dawn, following a ten-hours' ride, disclosed a 
flat, marshy country, with no appearance of vegetation 
save the tall, coarse grass which is always found in 
close proximity to the sea. This slight evidence of land 
grew " small by degrees and beautifully less " as our 
train rushed over road-beds built upon piles, and rattled 
across short bridges. At length we reached the final 
one, which spans the lagoon in its stretch of two miles ; 
and passing over that, we found Qurselves in the sub- 
stantial station-house of Venice. 



VENICE. 209 

As there was nothing very peculiar in the appearance 
of the building, I forgot for the moment that 1 was in 
the City of the Sea. On alighting from the car, we were 
addressed in English, an inquiry being made regarding 
our choice of a hotel ; and we were directed to a certain 
door, outside which we would find the proper omnibus. 
That word completed my bewilderment, and I felt some- 
what surprised when, instead of the customary yellow 
coach which the name suggested, I saw, drawn up to the 
quay, a row of gondolas. As Hotel Danieli was our des- 
tination, we went directly to the one upon which that 
name was distinctly marked, with the additional words, 
" Omnibus No. 10. " This, like all of them designed 
for hotel use, was larger than the ordinary gondola, 
and was sufficiently capacious to carry a half-dozen 
travellers with baggage ; this was managed by two gon- 
doliers, one standing at either end of the long, narrow 
craft. 

The novel and interesting experience of a first ride in 
a Venetian gondola is not easily forgotten. I feel 
obliged to admit that at first I was disappointed in the 
appearance of the peculiar boats, but found the motion 
very delightful ; for the regular rise and fall of the long 
oars bore us almost imperceptibly over the water. Our 
route led through what might be termed the by-ways of 
Venice, and the ride dispelled some romance, as we 
threaded the narrow canals, where high, shabby houses 
walled us in, and where the sun could never enter. I 
also had my doubts as to the tide doing the thorough 
work for which it receives credit. 

As it was but six o'clock when we reached the city, I 



210 AFTERMATH. 

did not expect to see much evidence of life ; but the 
ahnost perfect silence which reigned was appalling. The 
canals bore a few gondolas like our own, on business 
intent ; the matin bells chimed out their call to mass, 
and an occasional woman was seen on her way to 
church : with these exceptions, everything was quiet 
until we neared the market-place, when all was changed. 
There boats were loading and unloading ; servants were 
chaffering, and cautiously making their purchases, — I 
fancied with more than ordinary care, as it was Sunday; 
strange cries and sounds of noisy traffic filled the morn- 
ing air. The boats were freighted with fish, fruit, or 
vegetables ; of the latter, there appeared to be a great 
variety and of unusual size. The fruit was all that I 
had expected to see in that climate ; there were figs 
dates, lemons, oranges, olives, pomegranates, and other 
semi-tropical fruits, which in their perfection and pro- 
fusion presented a tempting display. Upon tables and 
arranged in baskets were amber, purple, and golden 
grapes ; and I did not doubt that, filled with their winy 
juice, they were as delicious to the palate as delightful 
to the eye. 

We glided over phantom streets, between rows of 
houses which rose directly from the water. Many of the 
windings were so short and narrow that before there was 
hardly time for marvelling if there was a possibility of 
the long, pointed boat being able to safely round the 
next corner, one of the gondoliers would sound out his 
shrill cry of warning ; its echoing reply would be still 
ringing in our ears when a duplicate boat swept by in a 
long, graceful curve, with not a hand's breadth of space 



VENICE. 2 1 1 

between the two. Now and again, we darted beneath a 
bridge so narrow that one tlirust of the long oars from 
the powerful arms of the graceful gondoliers brought us 
out upon the other side. The oUt-rushing tide bore 
upon its stained waters the litter from the market and 
the refuse of the city ; on granite steps and marble 
thresholds rested many unsightly objects, and my 
dreams of the beautiful Venice seemed to disappear 
like mist under the brightness of the morning. But 
my anticipations had been too long fostered to be en- 
tirely dispelled by one disappointment, and I was grate- 
ful for the later opportunities afforded of gondola rides 
in sunshine and moonlight, which in a measure restored 
the ideal of my early impressions. 

At length we reached a landing, ascended several 
steps, wound through numerous rooms and corridors, 
and were soon established in pleasant apartments in 
Hotel Danieli, a palace formerly ; but that fact possesses 
no particular merit, where nearly all of the better class 
of dwellings claim that distinction. 

We had entered from the side canal, or alley, and our 
rooms had windows upon that side, though fronting upon 
the Grand Canal. As my apartment and furnishings 
were rather novel, I shall venture to give a brief descrip- 
tion. The room was large, with walls and ceiling taste- 
fully frescoed, and an oiled floor. There were two small 
ebonized bedsteads, brightly ornamented with gilt lines 
and clusters of flowers ; over them were nettings of lace. 
The toilet table was of some bright yellow material, 
covered with lace, and a large mirror above. There 
was a sideboard having, doors, drawers, and a still larger 



2 1 2 AFTER MA TH. 

mirror, while the third, over the wash-stand, made out 
the complement. These articles, with porcelain stove, 
odd tables and chairs, quite filled the large chamber. 

The Hotel Danieli stands upon the Riva dei Schi- 
avoni, which is the great quay of the city. It com- 
mences in front of the Doge's Palace with a width of 
perhaps eighty feet, which gradually diminishes to 
twenty at the terminus, a half-mile away. This is 
heavily paved, and on the harbor side constructed of 
granite. Here was the chief mart of Venice in the 
days of her commercial greatness, and it is still the 
principal harbor for the great merchant ships and 
the smaller steamers. A little to the left and across 
the water is San Giorgio Maggiore, upon an island 
of the same name ; farther to the right is the church of 
Sta. Maria della Salute, just at the point where the 
Grand Canal really commences. These were the first 
objects that met my sight as I looked from my window, 
while across, above, and on every hand were towers, 
domes, and spires springing from the sea ; upon 
them golden crosses gleamed, and from beneath came 
the full-toned voices of the bells across the watery ways. 

By the time that we had breakfasted, rested a little 
from the fatigue of the long ride, and looked at our 
immediate surroundings, Venice was rousing from her 
slumbers. The first characteristic cry that I heard was 
"Aqua! aqua!'' with an indescribable accent and pro- 
longation of the sound. A few slatternly looking ser- 
vants were passing, each wearing a neck-yoke, from 
which were suspended two peculiarly shaped copper 
buckets. Their numbers gradually increased, and I 



VENICE. 2 1 3 

observed that those returning had their vessels filled 
with water. I learned later that they had been to one 
of the public squares for the day's supply of the pre- 
cious fluid. The water for domestic purposes is brought 
from a distance through pipes laid along the line of the 
railway, and the public wells are filled during the night, 
as are also the reservoirs belonging to the better class 
of dwellings ; but as there is no general system of dis- 
tribution, the majority depend upon the wells in the dif- 
ferent squares, and at a designated hour every morning 
those depositories are unlocked for their benefit. The 
early morning cry was repeated at intervals, and came 
from an Italian who, with more thrift than most of his 
brethren, was endeavoring to add to his exchequer by 
selling the valuable commodity to the thirsty loungers 
and promcnaders. 

In fact, looking down upon the busy quay during those 
hours of Sunday was to witness many truly Venetian 
scenes. Up and down the steps of the bridge close at 
hand, and over the stone flagging passed the Italian 
women, the unsecured soles of their sandals clattering 
at every step. Many were in holiday dress ; the high 
coiffure and tall comb or row of silver pins, over which 
was negligently thrown the Spanish mantle, formed a 
very becoming toilet, as the lace folds softened the olive 
complexion and gave additional grace to the figure. 
Idlers lounged upon the quay and sunned themselves 
upon the marble steps; for every gondola going out or 
returning there were a dozen beggars, desirous at least 
of the pretence of a service, in the hope of securing a 
few centesimi. 



2 1 4 AFTERMA TH. 

The fruit sellers upon the water's edge plied a busy- 
trade ; while back and forth, beneath the brightness of 
a perfect day, passed members of the different grades 
of the people, many evidently church-goers. Upon the 
canals, gondolas were speeding in every direction ; in 
some the gondoliers in their sailor suits, broad white 
collars, and jaunty hats, presented a very picturesque 
appearance. 

It was only necessary to step out of the hotel, cross a 
narrow bridge, pass a large public building, and ascend 
the steps of a second bridge, to command a view of great 
interest. Standing there, I leaned upon the parapet and 
looked a few paces inland ; an arched way, with covered 
passage, extended from the second stories of the opposite 
buildings, across the canal. The buildings were the 
prison and the palace of the doge; the connecting link 
was the Bridge of Sighs, beneath which ran the Orfano 
Canal, whose dark waters have well kept the secret of 
many a bloody crime. 

Passing the harbor front of the ducal palace, the 
stranger will find himself among the objects most 
familiar in the pictures of Venice : cathedral, campa- 
nile, palace, library, and the two granite pillars, — all, 
substantial relics of Venice in the splendor of her prime. 
From the water a wide avenue extends inland to the 
Grand Piazza San Marco, called the Piazzetta. On 
either side stand one of the noted pillars : the one 
upholds the winged lion of St. Mark, with the Book 
beneath his paw ; the other, St. Theodore, standing on 
a crocodile, a shield on his left arm and sword in his 
right hand. 



VENICE. 21 S 

Walking along the Piazzetta, with the palace at our 
right, and handsome Library building at our left, we 
are soon within the limits of the Grand Piazza ; its 
dimensions are so great that we almost forgot the fact 
it is anchored in the water by thousands of piles. At 
our left the campanile rears its peaked dome, cut clear 
and distinct against the blue sky, and seems to proudly 
overlook the Adriatic. 

Every ambitious tourist is expected to ascend this 
bell tower, which is done by a series of inclined planes, 
paved with brick. It is said to be a comparatively easy 
way to ascend a great height ; without doubt, any 
amount of fatigue would be accounted as nothing, when 
the superb view of Venice and surroundings is taken 
into consideration. The tower is an imposing structure, 
but the majority of the visitors around it appear to be 
more interested in the flocks of pigeons which in count- 
less numbers soar about it, and float in and out of the 
ornamental arcades surrounding the Piazza. 

A short distance in front of the cathedral rise three 
tall masts, supported upon bronze pedestals ; from their 
peaks, in the time of Venetian power, floated the gon- 
falons of the three sister dominions that formed the 
republic of Venice. The pedestals have elaborate 
ornamentation in alto-relief, consisting in part of 
nymphs, mermaids, ships, and tritons ; each pedestal has 
a medallion of a doge, surrounded by an arabesque pat- 
tern, in the usual variety, and the ever-present winged 
lion occupies a conspicuous place. 

At the farther side of the Piazza stands the clock 
tower, with its large, showy dial-plate of blue and gold. 



2l6 AFTERMATH. 

This clock indicates the hours from one to twenty-four, 
changes of the moon, and signs of the zodiac. The 
general arrangement is similar in all of these automatic 
clocks, though the figures are different. This one has 
a seated statue of Madonna and Child within a sheltered 
niche. On certain festival days the figures of the 
Magi, preceded by an angel blowing a trumpet, come 
out from a small door and pass before the Virgin, all 
lowly bowing, and enter a door upon the other side. 
Above this statue is the winged lion, as doubtless the 
structure would seem incomplete to the Venetians 
without that device. Upon the summit of the tower 
is a bell, and on either side stands a bronze Vulcan, 
hammer in hand ; they strike each hour upon the bell 
by natural movements of the arms. 

St. Mark's is so entirely unlike any other cathedral 
that no comparison can be made ; indeed, it is quite the 
fashion to say that it is indescribable. Granted that the 
assertion is not far from the truth, yet with several of 
Carl Ponto's incomparable photographs before me, I 
shall venture to ask any who will to look upon this 
quaint structure through the medium of my eyes. As 
we first see the exterior, the thought is that other than 
Christian worship is suggested by the arches, porticos, 
mosaics, swelling domes, and tapering turrets, imited in 
an edifice which is neither Gothic nor Byzantine, though 
including the peculiarities of each style. The form is 
that of a Greek cross with equal arms ; over the centre 
is a bulbous dome of great size, — the others, upon the 
arms, being much smaller. Gorgeous still in its faded 
magnificence, it stands symbolical of the citv of the 



VENICE. 2 1 7 

past ; the variety in its ornamentation recalling the fact 
that during its building, every returning vessel was 
obliged to bring some valuable material for the edifice, 
and to add to its grandeur, the crusaders wrenched from 
Constantine's fallen capital, gold and treasure of untold 
value. 

One particularly striking feature of the fagade is the 
double row of columns placed about the entrances in 
two tiers. These include nearly every known variety 
of marble, and were brought by the merchant ships from 
different parts of the world. Of the five hundred col- 
umns furnished in this manner, one hundred form this 
portico, the others being in the interior. The doors 
are of bronze ; the central one is claimed to be of Moor- 
ish workmanship, and is inlaid with silver. The five 
doorways are deeply recessed and heavily arched ; the 
arches furnish specimens of exquisite sculpturing of foli- 
age and flowers, which show to admirable advantage in 
contrast with the mosaics which fill the pediments. These 
mosaics are mostly illustrative of incidents in the life of 
the Evangelist Mark ; although exposed to storm and 
burned in the southern sun for centuries, they still re- 
tain much of their splendor and richness of coloring. 

A marble balcony above the five arched portals ex- 
tends across the entire front ; from that rise five other 
arches ; two on either side contain mosaics, while the 
grand central alcove is filled with a window of rainbow 
hues. It is in front of that the bronze horses of historic 
fame stand. 

The finish of this second tier of arcades is most elab- 
orate ; it consists of delicate fretwork, where statues of 



2 1 8 AFTER MA TH. 

saints and angels are mingled with branches of palm and 
abundant foliage. 

Upon the extreme point of the fagade stands a colos- 
sal statue of St. Mark ; below that, and above the great 
window, again appears the winged lion with open book. 
Six tapering spires, niched and handsomely carved, each 
containing a statue, rise between and at the end of the 
five elegant arches. Spandrels and every available space 
are filled with mosaic or sculpture, that nothing may be 
lacking in the exuberance of adornment. 

The vaulted ceiling of the vestibule is a mass of 
mosaics, illustrating Scripture history from the crea- 
tion. The background was originally of gilt, and being 
tarnished by age, the effect is decidedly dingy, while 
the figures are very peculiar. 

Although many speak enthusiastically of their beauty, 
candor compels me to say that to my idea, they were 
more valuable as illustrative of the progress of art 
than satisfying to a love for the beautiful ; in fact, they 
were more amusing than instructive. 

The floor of the cathedral was originally of tessellated 
marble, smooth and level ; it is now badly defaced and 
broken into billows of stone, over which we unevenly 
Avalk. The gloom of the dimly lighted interior increases 
the feeling of disappointment experienced at the first 
sight. It is only by repeated visits, and calling to our 
aid all the powers of imagination, that we are able to 
even faintly picture the interior as it might have been 
in the height of its splendor, when gilded mosaics and 
polished marble glowed with the freshness of beauty. 
The great variety in the costly ornamentation, which 



VENICE. 219 

followed the more gorgeous style of the Orientals and 
Saracens, must have made the structure magnificent in 
its prime, centuries ago. 

There are a number of chapels, and in one or more 
services are always being conducted, while visitors are 
wandering about the building. On one occasion I 
seated myself upon a stone bench and listened attcn- 
tivel}^ to the priest, who was reading the service, which 
was to me only a jargon of unintelligible sounds. Each 
chapel possesses some distinct attraction or curiosity ; 
possibly a specimen of superior workmanship in metal 
or stone, finished with such precision of detail that 
every minute portion becomes a study. 

Among the four hundred pillars within the church 
are included many of the rarest material : there are 
agate, alabaster, porphyry, malachite, verde antique, and 
many other varieties. The choir is separated from the 
nave by a colonnade, which is upheld by alternate col- 
umns of black and white porphyry. Upon this stand 
the statues of the twelve apostles ; in the centre rises 
a solid silver cross, upon which is the life-size image of 
Christ, of the same metal. 

The high altar is so splendid that it is only used on 
the occasions of great festivals. Richly carved pillars 
support a gorgeous canopy covering the altar. The 
latter is magnificent, having around the sides bass-reliefs 
of precious stones wrought into panels of gold and sil- 
ver, illustrative of scenes in the life of Christ. It is 
claimed that these plates were executed in Constanti- 
nople during the tenth century. It is beneath this altar 
that the sarcophagus is shown, said to contain the 



220 AFTERMATH. 

remains of Mark the Evangelist. The church tradition 
is that they were brought here from Egypt in the ninth 
century, and from that period dates the prominent ap- 
pearance of the Lion of St. Mark upon the Venetian 
standard. 

Another altar canopy is supported by four pillars of 
alabaster fluted spirally ; two of them are translucent. 
When the priest in attendance held a taper behind one 
to show the effect, the twisted column glowed with a 
warmth like hidden fire. 

The treasury occupies several rooms in the basement 
of the church, and has the usual collection of marvellous 
things which we have found in all the cathedrals visited. 
But I have entirely lost my relish for relics, and so thor- 
oughly exhausted my stock of credulity that I no longer 
waste time upon these senseless church museums. One 
of the vaults contains vast treasures of gold, silver, and 
priceless gems which are lying utterly useless, while 
scores of wretched beggars hang around the grand por- 
tals and lurk among the exquisite columns to beg for a 
pittance to keep them from starvation. 

There are many churches in Venice ; and nearly all, in 
their comparative freshness, would be considered far 
more beautiful than St. Mark's. While I am not quite 
willing to agree with one writer, who says that its chief 
attraction is its ugliness, yet I do not believe that any 
one could be impressed with its beauty as a whole. 
Although in its prodigality of contrasts and harmonies 
there is much to admire, yet one is rather surprised to 
find himself yielding to a charm that he has discovered 
in this mass of dingy splendor, which cannot easily be 



VENICE. 221 

explained. One never tires of the peculiarities that 
abound, and which characterize this ediiice as a unique 
creation, whose style of architecture belongs to no 
special time or nation. The details grow upon one with 
each succeeding visit, until, bewildered, he can only re- 
tain a general impression of oddities ; but this, if ana- 
lyzed, will dissolve into a hundred interesting specialties. 

Sunday afternoon was spent at the Academy of Fine 
Arts, with especial intent to have an abundance of un- 
disturbed leisure for a study of Titian's celebrated paint- 
ing "The Assumption of the Virgin." The Academy was 
nearly deserted, and we had hours of uninterrupted quiet 
in which to examine that painting, as well as to glance 
at many others. I am not a connoisseur, but will ven- 
ture to say that the impression received was that the 
vivid coloring was not more true in its copying of the 
possibilities of shades than was the effect of the Virgin 
borne among the clouds wonderful and beautiful. 

On our return to the hotel, an amusing episode oc- 
curred. Wearied with long gazing at wonders upon can- 
vas, and the dinner hour being near, the gondolier was 
directed to row us to the hotel. A considerable amount 
of Italian was wasted upon the air, and still we moved 
up the Grand Canal ; orders and questions seemed 
equally futile, and to be apparently resigned to what the 
coming moments had in store was deemed the wiser 
course. So, with direction unaltered, we awaited the 
movements of the gondolier, while we indulged in 
speculations as to our probable destination. At length 
our gondola was brought to a landing, and by gesture 
more than words, we were informed that we were to 



222 AFTERMATH. 

stop there. While expostulating, or attempting to do 
so in various terms, a gentleman rushed from the build- 
ing near by, greeted us with great cordiality, and en- 
tirely regardless of our persistent efforts to explain the 
existing condition of affairs, assisted up the steps, and 
politely escorted us into the building ; it seemed to me 
entirely without the exercise of any volition on our part. 
The place thus compulsorily visited proved to be a 
manufactory of Venetian glass; possibly under other cir- 
cumstances the novelties seen there might have been 
enjoyed more, but as it was, we found much to interest. 
In vain were apologies for the Sunday intrusion and 
protests against going farther ; as whether we would or 
no, we were shown through the numerous apartments 
of the establishment, seeing everything that could be 
made of glass, from a tiny bead to articles of furniture. 
I always feel some compunctions of conscience as I re- 
call that incident, particularly the fact that I repeatedly 
assured the courteous gentleman that I would call the 
following day, but am somewhat comforted by the re- 
membrance that the others said the same. However, 
^s the promise was in a measure conditional upon im- 
mediate release, and as doubtless he did not understand 
one word that was said, I trust that I shall be pardoned 
for that breach of faith. 

The practice suggested by the phrase "beggars on 
horseback " may be only tolerated in Spain ; but Vene- 
tian beggars are equally inconsistent, for they ply their 
art from gondolas. Upon the narrow canal beneath our 
windows one of those boats stopped : in it were seated 
a man and a little girl ; both sang, and the man twanged 



VENICE. 223 

the guitar by way of accompaniment. The child exhib- 
ited a degree of proficiency in catching the small coin 
which fell from the bridge and windows, indicating con- 
siderable practice. Every traveller in Italy, no matter 
how limited may be his experience, feels qualified to 
indorse the statement that the Italians are a race with 
outstretched hands. With many, beggary appears to be 
the business of life ; in fact, it is elevated to the dignity 
of a profession. If shame concerning this method of 
getting a livelihood ever existed in their minds, it is 
now, apparently, a thing of the past. If you favorably 
respond to the plea of the suppliant, you are cordially 
commended to the good offices of the Madonna, or all 
the saints in the calendar. If you decline, though you 
may not understand one word uttered, the flashing eye, 
emphatic gestures, and unceasing flow of language as 
long as you are within hearing, are convincing proofs 
that you are consigned to the care of a less agreeable 
personage. 

" Those hundred isles, that tower majestically, 
That rise abruptly from the water mark 
Not with rough crag, but marble and the work 
Of noblest architects." 

Everybody knows that Venice is built upon seventy- 
two islands, that more than one hundred and fifty canals 
intersect each other and the Grand Canal, and that 
double that number of bridges furnish the means of 
access from one street to another. Many of these 
canals are very short ; others are not more than ten or 
twelve feet in width. There are numerous narrow 
streets, and it would be possible for one to investigate 



224 AFTERMATH. 

the city thoroughly on foot, although he might be 
obliged to take a circuitous route. Of course familiar- 
ity with the city would be necessary, as labels and num- 
bers could not readily be found. These streets, or 
paved walks, are straight or crooked as is the canal by 
which they extend ; occasionally they end abruptly 
against a stone wall. Upon these ways, six or eight 
feet wide, most of the shops are situated, and the mer- 
chants appear to be the most active class among the 
Venetians. 

The ranges of stores within the colonnade surround- 
ing the Piaz2a of St. Mark are much larger, and include 
all varieties of merchandise. Jewelry stores were very 
numerous and their windows were filled with a very 
attractive display, a specialty being mosaics, as there 
are large manufactories of that class of goods in Venice. 
Picture stores were also numerous, as the photographers 
of Venice have attained a reputation for superior skill 
in that branch of art, and they are as yet unsurpassed. 

There are several gardens or parks within the city, 
but the only one which I saw was the one lying on the 
shore of the Grand Canal behind the palace of the Proc- 
urator. After hours spent among stones and marbles, 
it was always refreshing to see the grass, shrubs, and 
small trees within that little enclosure. Many of the 
balconies had a profusion of vines trained over them, 
and vases of handsome plants were upon the steps and 
verandas of the palaces, but no trees were visible. 

Another of my romantic ideas was dispelled when I 
looked upon the famous Rialto and found it to be a 
medley of shops, the three passages and two rows of 



VENICE. --3 



small stalls extending the entire length. I judged from 
the variety on exhibition that every particular Italian 
taste could be gratified without going beyond the limits 
of the bridge. Their favorite viands were exposed there 
for sale, ranging from garlic to macaroni, as well as 
clothing, groceries, crockery, and fancy goods; even 
mosaics and the delicate Venetian glass were included. 

The present Rialto was built three hundred years ago 
upon a substructure of twelve thousand piles. It is of 
marble, and has a single span of eighty feet. Until 
within a few years past it was the only means of cross- 
ing the Grand Canal ; now two wire suspension bridges 
unite the parts of the city which the canal divides. 

Near the Rialto and in front of the oldest church in 
Venice a column is pointed out called the "Hunchback 
of Rialto." It is of Egyptian granite, and has sculp- 
tured upon it the figure of a kneeling man ; from this it 
was formeriy the custom to have the laws of the city 
proclaimed. 

The ducal palace really has two fronts : one towards 
the harbor, separated from it by the esplanade, the 
other upon the Graiid Piazza. This is an immense 
structure, built around an open court in a very ornate 
and striking style. On the exterior wall the first and 
second stories are arcaded : the lower has large but 
short pillars, with deeply pointed arcades ; the sec- 
ond, guarded by a balustrade, has the same number of 
arches and twice as many columns ; within each arch is 
elaborate carving with quatrefoil centre. The Corin- 
thian capitals are heavily sculptured, small statues min- 
gling with the fruits and flowers. Within a niche at the 



226 AFTERMATH. 

corner of the two fronts is an elegantly wrought group. 
The upper portion of the palace is finished in marble 
bricks, red and white, arranged in a showy, double 
diamond pattern. The windows are of various styles 
and shapes : some are small and round, others square ; 
there are also several that are double, heavily arched, 
and richly ornamented. In the centre, upon the harbor 
side, is a handsome projecting balcony, where it is the 
custom for feminine royalty to stand to receive the 
homage of the people. 

But it is within the court that one begins to realize 
what is meant by luxury in art as applied to architect- 
ure. In the greatest profusion here are to be found 
panellings, colonnades, arches, columns, and balconies, 
all ornamented, and seemingly with every device possi- 
ble to be wrought from marble. As upon the fronts, 
the lower stories are arcaded ; the upper have the vari- 
ety afforded by deeply panelled arches, rows of windows, 
and colonnades, forming a combination before unseen. 
Everywhere there are statues, bass-reliefs, elegantly de- 
signed armorial bearings, symbols, and standards, — a 
wilderness of sculptured beauty. 

" Enter the palace by the marble stairs 
Down which the grizzly head of old Faliero 
Rolled from the block." 

This so-called Giant's Staircase is inlaid with many 
varieties of marble in a vine pattern ; the balustrade is 
of Carrara marble, with panels of different colors in- 
serted ; the whole is very elegant. These stairs lead to 
the colonnade of the second story, and occupy the width 
of three arches. Its size might well entitle it to the 



VENICE. 227 

name it bears, although its title is said to be on account 
of the gigantic figures of Mars and Neptune which 
stand at the head of the steps. Between these is the 
place where the doges formerly stood to be crowned ; 
and it was standing here that Byron makes the deposed 
doge say, — 

" So now the doge is nothing, and at last 

I am again Marino Faliero ; 

'Tis well to be so, though but for a moment. 

Here was I crowned, and here —bear witness, heaven I 

With how much more contentment I resign 

That shining moclvcry, the ducal bawble. 

Than I received the fatal ornament." 

A second flight of stairs leads to the third story, 
where are the historical rooms. The hall of the Coun- 
cil of Ten, the hall of the Council of Three, the Audi- 
ence hall, and the Senate hall open into one, which from 
that circumstance is called the hall of the Four Doors. 
There are many others, but the Grand Council, Audi- 
ence, and Senate halls are the finest ; they are magnifi- 
cent apartments, stately in their proportions and covered 
with frescos that are considered unrivalled. 

The vast Audience hall has the glory and prowess of 
Venice pictured upon the ceiling by Tintoretto ; upon 
the walls are the paintings of Titian, Paul Veronese, 
and other famous artists. The Senate hall and Coun- 
cil chambers have decorations by the same artists, one 
of the frescos being of unparalleled size. This im- 
mense picture by Tintoretto is, in round numbers, thirty 
by eighty feet. The majority of these decorations have 
reference to the illustrious record of Venice. Historical 



228 AFTERMATH. 

scenes appear most appropriately here, as within these 
walls were conducted some of the greatest transactions 
of the age. Here it was the custom for the nobility 
and aristocracy to assemble ; here the foreign embassies 
were received, for this Ducal Palace unites a parliament 
house, a prison, and a royal residence within its bounds. 
The magnitude and the magnificence of these grand 
apartments afford proofs of the elegant tastes, as well 
as the munificence of the Venetian rulers. 

Viewed externally, the Bridge of Sighs would not 
excite either attention or admiration ; but its name has 
come down to us so indissolubly linked with the public 
prison, that the bare mention of the word excites our 
interest. Then, too, the current belief that whoever 
entered one corridor of the gallery left hope and life 
behind, has given it an unpleasant notoriety which will 
endure as long as history. 

The significance so sadlv attached to its name be- 
comes somewhat dimmed, if we credit the statement 
that the most gloomy dungeons were within the palace 
walls. Cruel as was the fate of the unhappy wretches 
imprisoned in the vaults of either prison or palace, still 
more horrible was the doom awaiting those confined 
beneath the leaded roof of the royal dwelling ; for 
there a man could not stand upright, as little air was 
admitted as would sustain life, the intense rays of the 
southern sun fell unbroken upon the low metal roof, 
keeping the temperature so high and unvarying that a 
common result among the prisoners, after days of untold 
tonure, was insanity or idiocy. We went down to the 
ranges of vaults, which we entered through a low, arched 



VENICE. 229 

doorway, and by the flickering light carried by the guide, 
saw the dens of horror. Heavy masonry, thick, massive 
walls, arched ceiling, and floors of the same pitiless stone, 
all told the story of abandoned hope. Bare ! No, not 
bare, for upon every dungeon floor was a hideous mock- 
ery of comfort in the shape of a pillow hewn from stone. 
The lower tier of cells lies below the rushing tide ; 
no light, no breath from the outside world ; dismal, 
awful in their gloom are those deserted dungeons. 
There was pointed out in each partition wall a narrow 
loop-hole, where every day for a brief half-hour a taper 
was placed that the prisoner might see. That seemed 
to me the perfection of cruelty ; that feeble ray thrown 
into the cell of doom, giving thirty minutes of dim 
twilight to make more intolerable the gloom of each 
recurring twenty-four hours, which was literally the 
blackness of darkness. 

" That deep descent leads to the dripping vaults 
Under the flood, where warmth and light came never." 

There are thousands of gondolas in the city, and one 
never tires of watching them, as they are as peculiar 
and characteristic as is everything else in Venice. 
They are moored at all the quays, stand at the foot of 
the stairs which lead to the bridges, and secured 
to the posts in front of many of the better residences. 
All are uniform in shape, painted black ; the better ones 
having some carving upon the woodwork. The curved 
prow rises high, and has a number of notched projec- 
tions, which undoubtedly have their use or significance. 
These boats are easily managed by one gondolier, 



230 AFTERMA TH. 

though it is customary to have two, as thereby the 
speed is increased. The cover is nearly square, and of 
the same sombre hue as the body of the boat ; there are 
small windows at the side and rear. For business pur- 
poses, the top is removed, while the pleasure boats 
frequently have a gay awning substituted. The seats 
are cushioned, and in every way it is a most restful 
and luxurious mode of travelling, and cannot fail to be 
admirably adapted to Italian ideas of comfort. The 
gondoliers are trained from childhood to the business, 
and are very graceful in their management of the single, 
long-bladed oar ; their dexterity and skill in directing 
the long, narrow craft are really wonderful. Byron's 
description is as true now as when he wrote: — 

" Didst ever see a gondola ? for fear 
You should not, I '11 describe it you exactly ; 

'T is a long covered boat that 's common here, 
Carved at the prow, built lightly, but compactly ; 

Rowed by two rowers, each called gondolier ; 
It glides along the water looking blackly, 

Just like a coffin clapped in a canoe, 

Where none can make out what you say or do." 

While it is desirable to be near the Grand Canal if 
one would have the centre of social and commercial life 
easily accessible, and see Venice to the best advantage 
in a short time, yet if one is located near the busy 
quay, he very soon learns that although the silence of 
the Sea City is unbroken by tread of horse or whirl of 
wheel, there are other sounds there still less conducive 
to sleep, as singing, lively conversation, and incessant 
pattering of sandalled feet do not cease during the 
entire night ; at least the esplanade in front of Hotel 



VENICE, 231 

Danieli did not have a moment of quiet in the round of 
each twenty-four hours. 

The Grand Canal, the main thoroughfare of the city, 
has upon it nearly all of the principal palaces and 
churches. This watery avenue has always been the 
fashionable street, and here have been built from time 
to time the residences of the aristocracy and wealthy 
merchants. Here the hundred palaces rose from the 
sea, and other stately edifices helped to line its entire 
length of two miles. Every variety of architecture is 
introduced among the various buildings ; but every one 
is constructed of stone or marble. All now wear a 
dingy and dilapidated appearance, to which the excess 
of ornamentation, worn and defaced, adds its burden to 
the time stained fronts. 

The palaces are usually five stories high ; steps of 
marble extend into the water, and close by is a gayly 
painted post to which the gondola is secured. In spite 
of the evidence of decay, there is an appearance of 
strength and durability in the substantial masonry which 
aids one in imagining what might have been the glory 
and grandeur of Venice, of which so many rich traces 
yet remain here and in the Piazza San Marco. 

As we float over the smooth water, the measured 
strokes from the powerful arms of the tall gondoliers, 
their peculiar attitude, characteristic cry of warning, the 
noiseless fall of the glancing oar, all seem but portions 
of the Venetian scene as pictured in imagination ; the 
palaces on either hand are but reminders of the cen- 
turies that have passed since they rose white and fair. 
As we dream the time away, we can see in the flight of 



232 AFTERMATH. 

fancy the commercial and maritime Venice, when art 
and wealth reigned in all her wide domain, while the city 
bore proudly and truthfully her title of Queen. 

But after our eyes have lingered long upon the objects 
of interest and tokens of a past splendor, as by the light 
of day we regard the city quietly slumbering beneath 
the soft, blue haze that hangs over the Adriatic, there 
is still another and more charming view in store. To 
glide along the watery ways in a gondola, beneath the 
shining radiance of a full moon, is in very deed to float 
into an enchanted land, laved by the waters of ro- 
mance. 

Such was my experience upon a never-to-be-forgotten 
glorious evening. First we glided down where the ship- 
ping was moored in the lagoon ; the tall masts of the 
various vessels were sharply outlined against sea and 
sky ; hanging lanterns from prow and stern cast long 
rays across the water, broken only by the ripple caused 
by our noiseless oars, or those of another gondola " in 
the dark livery of woe," which passed us without sound 
or perceptible motion, the tall oarsmen looking like 
spectres in the weird light. 

Then turning, we moved up the Grand Canal, past 
the stately granite pillars which stand like sentinels to 
guard the Ducal Palace ; its deeply recessed arches held 
depths of shade, while its variegated front shone bright 
in the clear moonlight, past the Grand Piazza, glowing 
with light from shops and cafes, and thronged with the 
lively people out for amusement. Soon we floated be- 
neath the walls of the shattered mansions, whose marble 
gleamed pure in the softened rays of the moon ; in the 



VENICE. ■ 233 

blue water, hosts of stars were mirrored ; frail bridges 
for a moment hung above our heads as we swept be- 
neath their arches ; upon marble steps, gay groups 
were landing, or crossing water-washed thresholds pre 
paring to depart ; lights streamed from the windows 
and spanned the canal with silver bridges ; the tinkle of 
a guitar sounded near at hand, and pleasure-boats filled 
with a merry party went drifting towards the sea, their 
cheerful songs making fitting melody as their harmo- 
nious voices, blending in full chorus, were borne across 
the water and died away as the distance widened be- 
tween us. 

It was in such a manner that I found the Venice 
which prose and poetry had aided to build in an ideal 
realm, and about which history, tradition, and romance 
for many years had woven a potent charm ; for beneath 
the moon's kindly shaded rays, decay became pic- 
turesque, age added grandeur, while soil and stain were 
invisible. 



234 AFTERMA TH. 

XXVII. 

VIENNA. 

The long distance from Venice to Vienna was broken 
by a rest at Trieste, which place we reached at mid- 
night. The drive from the station to Hotel de Ville in 
the clear moonlight afforded a glimpse of that principal 
seaport of the Austrian Empire, with its grand harbor 
filled with shipping and its stately citadel upon the 
heights overlooking the town. 

Arriving at the hotel, we were assured that there 
would be no difficulty in securing rooms upon the sec- 
ond floor, and we lost no time in starting on our way 
thither. After ascending several long flights of stairs, 
an inquiry was made as to our nearness to the rooms 
which had been assigned to our party ; we were reas- 
sured by the statement that there were but a few steps 
more. Still we climbed, and at last the goal was 
reached. Very weary, I retired at once without indul- 
ging in speculations as to our whereabouts. A glance 
from my window in the morning convinced me that we 
could not be far from the roof; an opinion strengthened 
\k'hen, descending, I counted the stairs and found there 
were ninety-eight. 

This statement might give one an idea that archi- 
tecture in Trieste was rather peculiar, were it nst 
known that it is almost invariably the custom to call 
every story above the first the second ; that methoc^ 



VIENNA. 235 

simplifies tlie business materially, and is so very encour- 
aging to the weary traveller. Usually half of the 
tedious ascent is made before he realizes the situation ; 
then it is too late to remedy the evil, as it is easier to 
proceed than to retrace his steps upon a bootless errand. 
The foreign official always has one valuable resource 
when all others have failed, and against which words 
are useless ; that is, an inability to understand your lan- 
guage, though he may have glibly addressed you a few 
moments before. 

The dining-room was upon the ground floor, occupy- 
ing the front of the house ; as our table was placed 
directly before the open door, we breakfasted with only 
the width of a narrow street between us and the gray, 
rolling waters of the Adriatic, or more correctly Gulf 
of Trieste. 

As we had a ride of three hundred and fifty miles 
before us, we were much gratified at having a compart- 
ment to ourselves the greater portion of the distance, 
the only other occupant during the entire day being an 
Italian lady for a few hours. Although our feelings 
towards her were extremely cordial, yet for obvious rea- 
sons we held no conversation with her. 

About midday a guard appeared and inquired if we 
would take table d' Jiote at two o'clock. As here was 
an opportunity for a new experience, an affirmative re- 
ply was given. At the designated hour we were, at the 
station named, shown into a large, pleasant room, and 
served with a good dinner in a quiet, orderly manner. 
There was no" rush, no confusion, and abundant time 
was given for a very satisfactory dinner. This orderly 



236 AFTERMATH. 

practice ought to commend itself to the management 
of other railways ; it is another of the few customs 
connected with travel abroad which are an improvement 
upon the method of their conduct at home. 

As there was much to interest, the day was not as 
tiresome as was anticipated. Our route led through 
thriving towns and a diversified country until, reaching 
the chain of mountains which divides the province of 
Styria from Austria proper, the scenery became quite 
Alpine in its character. The Vienna and Trieste Rail- 
road crosses over the famous Semmering Pass, that 
has for centuries furnished a way of communication be- 
tween Lower Austria and several of the southern prov- 
inces of the Empire. 

Upon the southern side of the mountains a hospital 
was founded during the fourteenth century ; but it was 
not until nearly four centuries later that a post and 
carriage road was constructed. In 1728 a less difficult 
highway was constructed, and thirty years since a rail- 
way was projected by a private company, which was 
completed by the government. 

The extreme height which it attains is three thou- 
sand feet above the sea ; but there were other natural 
difficulties in the way, aside from the ascent, which 
made its success a triumph of civil engineering. The 
railway crosses the river Schwazen upon a curved via- 
duct, and goes in long windings over and along the out- 
lying mountains and the projecting shoulders of the 
greater heights, until a point is reached where further 
climbing is made unnecessary by a tunnel that forces 
its way through the mountain for one straight mile. 



VIENNA. 237 

From Gloggnitz to Murznichlag is twenty miles, and in 
that distance are many tunnels of varying lengths ; it 
seemed as if we were within the rock half of the time. 
It was twilight when the wilder portion of the pass was 
reached ; but we were enabled to enjoy the grand scen- 
ery, and even in that waning light to comprehend some- 
what of the dangers and difficulties that attended the 
construction of a road through such a wild, rough 
region. 

It was late in the evening when we arrived at Vienna, 
and we were sufficiently fatigued with the long day's 
journey to fully appreciate the comforts of the Metro- 
pole. During our stay there we enjoyed the cuisine 
greatly. Instead of the very odd dishes we expected 
to find, the cookery was very like that of the French ; 
but later, we had all the peculiar seasonings for which 
the Germans have a fondness, as caraway, anise, or 
some spicy herb flavored everything, from brown bread 
to pickles. 

At the Metropole our hearts were cheered as well as 
our palates gratified by most delicious coffee, the first 
since leaving Paris which could truthfully be called 
good. Although we had been more than satisfied with 
the Italian hotels, in contrast with what we had read 
concerning them and the privations endured by their 
patrons, yet we realized that we had not been entirely 
exempt from discipline, when a good cup of coffee en- 
riched by the addition of genuine cream could arouse 
such enthusiasm ; and when to that was added the first 
salted butter seen, with one exception, since leaving the 
" City of Berlin," and the beautiful white bread, with 



238 AFTERMATH. 

its crisp crust and pleasant flavor, for which Vienna 
has more than a local reputation, I, for one, felt that the 
height of good living was attained. 

This hotel is built around a court which is covered 
with glass, and is used as a reception-room, reading- 
room, and particularly dining-room. A raised platform 
is upon three sides, and upon that a number of apart- 
ments open, several being the state dining-rooms. The 
majority of the guests were seated at small tables 
placed among the stands of plants in the centre or upon 
the platform, causing the meals to be much less formal 
than in the larger rooms. 

In all the hotels abroad, the poriier is 'an important 
personage ; but the one at the Metropole appeared the 
most capable of any seen, and was correspondingly busy. 
He spoke a number of languages fluently, and was the 
interpreter for the entire house ; saw each new guest as 
he came, and every old one as he departed ; met the 
new-comer at the door, called him by name, and at once 
announced that letters awaited him ; settled all the bills, 
straightened all difficulties, and to sum up briefly, — 

" He was a man, take him for all in all, 
I shall not look upon his like again." 

Vienna is usually spoken of as being upon the Dan- 
ube ; but the truth is that the broad river does not 
touch the city, which lies upon the narrow branch called 
the Danube Canal, It is separated into the old and 
new; but contrary to the usual rule, because it is the 
court quarter, the old is the centre of wealth and fash- 
ion. The streets are mostly narrow, but flanked by 



VIENNA. 239 

many handsome houses belonging to the aristocracy ; 
and besides, there is the palace of the Emperor, the 
residences of the nobility, and the most celebrated 
churches. 

The plan of the city has been compared to a spider's 
web, as from near the cathedral of St. Stephen's the 
principal thoroughfares radiate ; these are intersected 
by the numerous lesser streets and alleys. Of the 
original twelve gates of Vienna, but two remain ; the 
high wall which surrounded the old city has been lev- 
elled, and some portion of it converted into a broad, 
handsome esplanade. 

The newer part of the city is divided into thirty-four 
suburbs, and abounds in fine residences and elegant 
business blocks ; there are many pleasure parks and 
gardens, and upon the majority of the streets great 
care has been bestowed upon the ornamental trees. 
The quantity of unoccupied ground, and the appearance 
of many new and spacious squares where are handsome 
public and private buildings, finished and unfinished, 
are indications that a great work in beautifying and enlar- 
ging the Austrian capital is not alone projected, but is 
actually being carried forward. 

The substantial business blocks, with large, handsome 
windows and profuse ornamentation ; the vast number 
of lights, which so brilliantly illumine the city as almost 
to turn night into day ; the wide boulevards and other 
features, are quite a reminder of Paris. Although 
Vienna has not the air of extreme gayety which charac- 
terizes the French city, there is a more established 
appearance; and comparing their histories, the thought 



240 AFTERMATH. 

suggests itself that without doubt Vienna can claim the 
greater stability. 

Many thousands of Jews have a home in Vienna ; 
there as elsewhere their peculiarities are distinctly 
marked. I observed upon the street a number who 
wore an odd and conspicuous dress. I afterwards 
learned that they were members of a sect claiming to 
be the lineal descendants of Benjamin. They wore a 
monkish-looking coat or robe reaching nearly to their 
feet, and high boots ; the head was covered with a tall 
silk hat ; below that long curls, slim and greasy, dangled 
over the shoulders, one on either side hanging in front 
of the ear. 

The days passed in that city were decidedly excep- 
tional, as I neither entered a church or art gallery, con- 
sequently reader and writer will be spared any efforts 
to describe church interiors or paintings : the truth 
being that my own time was so occupied with visits to 
oculist and optician, with the consequent rest required, 
that the greater amount of my sight-seeing was done 
in driving back and forth upon the different streets ; in 
that way I really obtained quite a satisfactory idea of 
the city as a whole. 

Although in the metropolis of music, I only heard that 
rendered by the bands at the Volksgarten, where we 
attended a concert. Several bands were stationed in 
different parts of the grounds, each playing in turn. 
Thousands of people were within the enclosure, and 
evidently those entertainments were well patronized 
by the wealthy and fashionable. There was a great 
display of dress, the toilets of many of the ladies 



VIE NX A. 241 

being as elaborate as if for a grand ball. The entire 
park was illuminated, ten thousand jets being lit for 
that occasion. During the intervals between the selec- 
tions, the ladies with their escorts, many of them being 
in full military dress, strolled up and down the avenues, 
which were as brilliant as gas could make them. The 
scene was gay and dazzling. Others, gathered in little 
groups around the small tables, indulged in lively con- 
versation, while they sipped their wine and beer, ate an 
ice, or were furnished with the more substantial viands 
if desired. 

Within the grounds is a long hall with frescoed ceil- 
ings and glass sides, where the crowd gather when the 
weather is unfavorable ; only a few resorted there upon 
that especial evening, as it was a clear, beautiful night, 
although cool. . Hundreds were gathered outside of the 
wire netting which enclosed the park ; some thoughtful 
ones had brought their camp chairs, and could enjoy the 
gay scene and the music quite at their ease and without 
expense. 

St. Stephen's Cathedral is the most conspicuous build- 
ing in Vienna, and is also the oldest, largest, and finest 
of the churches. There is a tradition to the effect that 
it is situated upon the very spot where originally stood 
a sacred grove consecrated to heathen rites. I have 
seen this cathedral compared to the one in Cologne ; it 
is not only much sm.aller, but in various ways suffers in 
the comparison. I have also seen it stated that it is 
the finest Gothic church in Europe. I do not claim to 
have seen all, by any means ; but with my limited expe- 
rience I can think of several I am positive could not 
16 



242 AFTERMA TH. 

have been seen by the one making that statement. It 
has a lofty spire, gracefully proportioned and hand- 
somely embellished, and a striking effect is given by 
that shapely pinnacle towering among the lesser spires 
and above the sharply pointed roof. 

It was a pleasant ride on the tramway out to Schon- 
brunn, several miles from the city; I did not wonder 
that it was the favorite residence of the imperial family, 
when its beauty and freshness were compared with the 
dingy palace within the city. Modestly termed a chateau, 
it was in reality one of the finest royal homes that I 
had seen. This palace has been called the Versailles 
of Austria, having been built by the Empress Maria 
Theresa. When the French occupied Vienna, Napo- 
leon resided there, and in later years his son, the Duke 
of Reichstadt, breathed his last within those walls. 

The grounds back of the -palace broadened out into 
extensive gardens, filled with choice fruit and rare flow- 
ers, while the shady avenues were bordered with rows 
of trees, artistically trimmed, though too straight and 
artificial to please my taste. The public are allowed 
free access to the principal garden, which is directly 
behind the palace. A broad central avenue extends to 
the ornamental lake in the distance ; from that other 
avenues diverge, the spaces being filled with beautiful 
parterres. The beds devoted to foliage plants exclusively 
were in the height of their luxuriance; others were brill- 
iant with a great variety of autumnal flowers. That 
portion of the garden was bordered by a hedge of trees, 
trimmed into a flat, straight surface, except where deep 
niches were cut for statues. I counted thirty-six marble 



VIENNA. 243 

figures thus arranged, the vivid green forming a very 
effective background. The lake contained a number of 
devices, such as dolphins, mermaids, etc. ; fountains 
were around the lake, as well as scattered through the 
large enclosure. There were also Roman ruins, roman- 
tic grottos, and charming . shady walks, including a 
curious labyrinth. In one of the largest fountains were 
thousands of goldfish ; in fact, they were so numerous 
as to impart their golden hue to the water : they fol- 
lowed their visitors in schools from side to side, appear- 
ing hungry as well as tame. 

Passing around the lake, and ascending a series of 
terraces, we reached the Gloriette. This is an exten- 
sive colonnade approached by a flight of steps at either 
end. In the centre is a large hall enclosed by glass, 
which is called the reception-room ; from this is a bal- 
cony looking towards the chateau. We were informed 
by an attendant that th^re the Emperor came every 
morning to read his papers before making his daily trip 
to the city. 

As the Gloriette is built upon the highest point of 
land in the vicinity, a fine view is afforded in every 
direction ; crowned by a colossal gilt eagle, the pillared 
hall is also a conspicuous feature of the landscape, and 
can be seen for a great distance. Vienna seemed quite 
near as we looked upon her glistening spires and stately 
buildings ; on every hand were the hills, dotted with the 
pleasant country homes, and an occasional lonely con- 
vent ; and farther removed in the remote background, 
mountain ranges bounded the horizon. 



244 AFTERMA TH. 



XXVIII. 



MUNICH. 



The Bavarian capital was seen under the discoura- 
ging circumstances of a genuine equinoctial storm ; this 
varied in intensity from the insidious " Scotch mist " — 
which gently but persistently comes from every direc- 
tion at the same moment — to a genuine down-pour. 
In each phase of the variety the result was the same : 
muddy streets, wet walks, damp, chilly atmosphere, and 
general discomfort. 

But regardless of the state of the weather, the time 
spent in Munich was fully occupied. In driving through 
the broad avenues lined with magnificent buildings, and 
the squares with their monuments and memorials, the 
opportunity was at the same time afforded of seeing the 
public edifices ; in those are included the various depart- 
ments, library, art buildings, and many other structures 
of which any city might justly be proud. 

Ludwigstrasse is one of the finest avenues, and termi- 
nates in a handsome arched gateway, surmounted by a 
triumphal car drawn by lions. This group in bronze is 
from a design by Schwanthaler, the great Munich artist, 
whose works are to be seen on every hand throughout 
the city. 

It was a short drive through the suburbs to reach 
Memorial Hall ; this structure, although not extremely 



MUNICH. 245 

grand in its proportions, is very imposing. It is con- 
structed in tlie severe Doric style, witli a superb colon- 
nade ; contains a hundred bass-reliefs, and nearly that 
number of busts and statues of the celebrities of Bava- 
ria. Among her noble sons who have been deemed 
worthy of a niche within the Ruhmeshalle are some 
who have had frequent mention in these notes : Hans 
Sachs, Albert Diirer, Adam Krafft, and others too numer- 
ous to mention. Very appropriately is placed directly 
in front of the hall the colossal statue of Bavaria, which 
with its pedestal of corresponding height attains an al- 
titude of nearly one hundred feet. As would be im- 
agined from her gigantic size, the appearance of this figure 
is grand and stately ; her head is crowned with laurel ; 
her right hand holds a sword, while the left bears aloft a 
wreath of immortelles, and the Bavarian lion sits at her 
feet. 

The finest church in Munich is called the Basilica, 
and appeared to be modelled after St. Paul extra Muros, 
which was to me the most beautiful church in Rome ; 
the view looking down the great aisle being much 
the same, although upon a smaller scale. A number of 
pillars of gray marble, highly polished, uphold the roof, 
whose vaulted ceiling is eighty feet above the mosaic 
pavement ; the wooden beams are richly carved, and 
between is the blue of heaven studded with golden 
stars. This is a modern church, and although intended 
to carry out the design of an eighth-century basilica, has 
all the beauty of freshness in its workmanship ; in thus 
combining simplicity of style with modern exactness 
in detail, the result is an elegant, artistic edifice. 



246 AFTERMATH. 

Sunday morning we went to St. Michael's to hear the 
classical music for which that, church is noted, and re- 
mained throughout the service. The organ was grand ; 
with its full tones were mingled the harmonious sounds 
from other instruments, and the choir sang in sweetest 
strains. It was enjoyable, but I would have readily ex- 
changed the pleasure for that of hearing the familiar 
hymns and tunes sung at home that day, in language 
that I could understand. 

The music scarcely ceased during the three hours we 
were there ; at the same time the priest at the remote 
end of the church was conducting service, and the peo- 
ple devoutly kneeling upon the cold stone floor, repeat- 
ing their prayers, seemingly without reference to priest 
or choir. 

In this church is the monument to Eugene Beauhar- 
nais, by Thorwaldsen. His life-size statue is clothed in 
the Roman dress, helmet on his head, and sword at his 
side ; he stands between History writing on a tablet, and 
the brother statues of Death and Immortality. Death is 
represented as holding an inverted torch, and his brows 
crowned with poppies. Immortality, with burning torch 
and wreath of everlasting flowers, gazes heavenward 
with a smile of triumph. 

The Royal Chapel is small, but is a gem of beauty, 
embellished with various marbles, mosaics, gilding, and 
painting. The windows are high and almost concealed 
by a double row of arches ; the effect of the light fall- 
ing from above upon the combined and exquisite colors 
of the different marbles is most charming. The columns 
are of red Tyrolese marble, with white base and gilded 



MUNICH. 247 

capitals. The alternate use of green with a dark purple 
or reddish stone in the lower arches, and the bright, 
beautiful frescos within the upper upon a ground of gold, 
produce an indescribably rich and elegant effect, while 
every part is equally choice in all the details. 

The Frauenkirche is old ; not only haunted, but rich 
in legends upon which the common people set great 
store. It contains an ancient bell, upon which is the 
following quaint inscription : — 

" My name is Susanna ; I was cast in the name of 
Jesus, Luke, Matthew, Mark, and John. The august 
Duke of Upper and Lower Bavaria, Albert, Count Pala- 
tine of the Rhine, was my designer. I was brought here 
from Regensburg. I drive away evil weather and ward 
off death. Hans Ernst cast me, when you number from 
God's birth 1493. Tetragrammaton." 

The lower class have many customs that are founded 
on olden-time church traditions, and they cling to super- 
stitions which have been handed down from generation 
to generation. It is to the church of St. Stephen's that 
horses are taken upon a certain day to be blessed, that 
ceremony being supposed to insure health for the ensu- 
ing year. 

The day set apart as sacred to the Three Kings is of 
special significance ; their initials, G. {or J.) M. B., each 
preceded by a cross, are thought to possess a potent 
charm, particularly if chalked by a priestly hand upon 
some portion of the house. 

We visited the King's Palace, which is a mass of 
adornment ; although there is much there worthy of 
admiration if it could be separated from the excessive 



248 A F TERM A TIL 

embellishment of the surroundings, yet one necessarily 
leaves with a confused impression regarding many 
things, and a deep conviction that he has seen nothing 
well. There are fine pictures, beautiful frescos, elegant 
statuary, and other artistic works in great variety. 

Of the numerous apartments I will mention but one, 
the throne-room. This is of magnificent proportions, 
decorated with a series of frescos by Kaulbach, illus- 
trating a renowned German poem. The entire length 
of the room, on either side, has Corinthian pillars of 
light gray marble with gilded capitals ; between each 
two stands a colossal statue. They were all designed 
by Schwanthaler, and represent the princes of the royal 
house for a period of five hundred years. 

The costumes and military equipments show the 
changes in those particulars during the centuries. 
These statues were first cast in bronze ; they were 
afterwards gilded, each at an expense of three thousand 
dollars. 

The throne is a massive chair, in crimson and gold, 
and stands at the extreme end of the room, with a 
gigantic figure on either side. The elaborate canopy is 
supported by pillars, carved and gilded ; the cover is 
gorgeous ; being crimson velvet, heavily embroidered 
with gold. 

Throughout the city, large public squares are frequent ; 
these contain many statues and monuments of superior 
merit. Among the latter are two formed from captured 
cannon ; one of them is particularly imposing. That is 
an obelisk, one hundred feet high, and erected as a 
memorial to the Bavarians under Napoleon who fell 
during the Russian campaign. 



MUNICH. 249 

Aside from the art galleries, the* library is the most 
striking in appearance among the public buildings. It 
is an elegant edifice of yellow sandstone, having arches 
and window caps of red marble ; this combination of 
colors results in a rich and peculiar appearance. Its 
length is five hundred feet, the remaining proportions 
being in harmonious accord. The grand entrance is 
guarded by colossal statues of the men of letters in 
Greece and Rome, during the period of their intellectual 
power. Appropriately, these representatives of mental 
greatness are placed before the grand building, filled 
with a rare collection of books and manuscripts, some 
being of priceless worth. This library is second only to 
the one in Paris, which is considered the largest and most 
valuable in the world. 

The old Pinakothek is a noble building ; its fifteen 
hundred paintings are arranged in accordance with dif- 
ferent schools and periods of time, and many of them 
are choice works and valuable accordingly. As one 
passes from hall to hall and notes the progress of art 
development in different countries and centuries, as 
suggested in the pictures, it is impossible not to feel 
the presence of an enchantment, although his knowledge 
of either ancient or modern art may be extremely limited. 
The gallery is so arranged that the light is admitted 
entirely from above, and the paintings are hung in such 
a manner as to perfectly bring out the most delicate 
shades. Numerous cabinets are beneath the larger pic- 
tures ; within and upon which the smaller paintings are 
placed, in connection with a great variety of pieces of 
rare and artistic workmanship in different styles. Noth- 



250 AFTER MA TH. 

ing one could say in a reasonable length of time would 
suffice to convey to another an idea of the many beautiful 
objects there, demanding admiration ; in most of the 
cases, the name of the artist alone would be an assur- 
ance of something not alone to admire, but to study. 
I spare you the reading of a dozen names, either of 
which, appended to a picture, would popularize it at 
once. 

The new Pinakothek is of very peculiar architecture ; 
like the original building of the same name, it has from 
the exterior the appearance of having two stories, the 
upper portion being filled with immense frescos- by 
Kaulbach. There are seven of these great pictures in 
the length of the building, and they represent allegori- 
cally the development of art. Some of the subjects are 
very singular; for instance, modern artists are portrayed 
attempting to rescue the Graces. 

Such a commingling produces an exceedingly gro- 
tesque effect ; and until I learned that the artistic hand 
of Wilhelm von Kaulbach had there carried out designs 
conceived by his own genius, I saw only a coarse de- 
lineation. I am going still further in my confessions 
of ignorance, and candidly admit that, approaching the 
building and seeing those pictures from a distance, I 
supposed it was a theatre, whose manager had adopted 
that unique method of advertising. 

Of the interior I can only say that the number and 
variety of fine works of art within the walls forbid the 
mere mention of any. It is almost entirely devoted to 
German art, and in its ten halls are placed many of the 
best works of the modern German painters. There are 



MUNICH. 251 

also many cabinets that contain a choice collection of 
miniatures, gems of porcelain painting, and valuable 
curiosities. 

The Glyptothek is to my mind the very choicest 
among the many fine public buildings of Munich. 
Standing in a large, open square, without any near sur- 
roundings, it presents an imposing appearance. It is 
possible that there are some trees, but my impression is 
that of a smooth lawn, destitute of tree or shrub. 
From the main entrance extends a wide avenue, which 
ends at a magnificent Doric arch called the Propylaeum. 

The portico of the Glyptothek is supported by eight 
immense Doric columns of white marble ; in the pedi- 
ment, artists and artificers of all styles are represented 
under the guardianship of Pallas Athene, mother of the 
arts. On either side are wings without windows ; these 
have ornamental niches in which stand statues of sculp- 
tors of ancient and modern days, from Phidias to 
Canova. 

The interior is divided into twelve halls, where is an 
incomparable wealth in sculpture admirably arranged. 
Words fail to express the pleasure to be derived from 
the sight of those matchless representations. In brief, 
the interior is as beautiful as one might expect from the 
chaste and elegant exterior. It .has been under the 
guardianship of men of taste and culture, who have 
been faithful to their trust ; they have allowed no work 
to receive the sanction of a place within those walls 
which did not possess superior merit. 

In order that nothing should be wanting which could 
add to the beautiful effect, the walls are of red and 



252 AFTERMATH. 

green marble, which forms an advantageous background 
for the sculptured beauties. 

My ideas concerning Munich were vague, and as I 
found, far from correct. I was under the impression 
that Munich was stretched out upon a plain, upon 
an unnavigable mountain stream, " the Iser rolling 
rapidly," and that it was almost entirely destitute of 
natural advantages. Although I knew that it possessed 
some valuable art collections, and places generally at- 
tractive to tourists, I was surprised to find such broad 
and handsome avenues, lined with palatial edifices, 
churches grandly built, a showy imperial palace, and 
many schools, hospitals, and other benevolent institu- 
tions which rivalled those of older and more powerful 
capitals. 

The population of Munich is large and its wealth im- 
mense. It possesses great manufacturing interests, and 
its organized companies and capitalists do not hesitate 
with their banks, railways, and various agencies to grasp 
their share of the commerce, not alone of their immediate 
country, but to reach out even to the cities of the Medi- 
terranean ; for the Iser is in reality one of the larger 
tributaries of the Danube, that great river of Europe, 
which bears upon its broad breast so large a share of 
the product of the fields and vineyards upon the banks 
of its branches as well as its own. 

I have endeavored, though very imperfectly, to pre- 
sent the city as it appeared to me : rich, beautiful, 
abounding in palaces filled with artistic treasures ; a 
city whose enlargements and improvements, contem- 
plated and in actual progress, seem to promise much, 



MUNICH. 253 

when its boundless resources are considered. Called of 
old the " City of the Little Monk," and that strange 
figure appearing upon its municipal escutcheon, yet by 
many it is considered to be entitled to the title of " City 
of Beauty," as splendor and grandeur have invested it 
to such an extent that without any unjust comparison it 
is accredited with being the centre of the fine arts in 
Germany. 



254 AFTERMATH. 



XXIX. 

NUREMBERG. 

" In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow-lands 
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. 

" Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, 
Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng 

" Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, 
Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old; 

" And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, 
That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every clime." 

Old Nuremberg in Bavaria is as quaint a city, as 
faithful a delineator of mediaeval times, as one can 
expect to find in these progressive days. Not that 
Nuremberg is entirely exempt from the inroads of that 
Vandal, Modern Improvement ; but that, like science, 
" moves slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point." 

It is owing to that fact alone that there yet remains 
enough of wall, moat, and towers to enable us to recog- 
nize truth in the statement that originally the city was 
surrounded by a double wall, which had eight massive 
gates, and seventy towers, round and square. The old 
castle, as clumsy as picturesque, the narrow streets, 
high-gabled houses, oriel and dormer windows, over- 
hanging balconies, general appearance of antiquity, and 
traces of its olden-time grandeur afford opportunities for 



NUREMBERG. 255 

one to realize more than anticipated in making the ac- 
quaintance of this highly interesting city. 

" That ancient, free, imperial town, 

Forever fair and young. 
Where Albert Diirer plied his art. 

And Hans Sachs pegged and sung." 

The above stanza, taken from a German poem, was 
written so long ago that the writer may be forgiven the 
use of the word "young" ; while "free," as applied to a 
city during the Middle Ages, may possibly imply more 
than an American citizen can readily appreciate. 
Though literally meaning freedom from feudal power, 
there was at that time a deeper depth in the significa- 
tion. Some of the German cities became free by vig- 
orous, valiant use of the sword ; but peaceful Nurem- 
berg bought its freedom. Taking advantage of the 
necessities of the Emperor, the worthy burghers paid 
into the treasury a sura equivalent to one million of 
dollars, and thus was Nuremberg made a " free imperial 
city." Immediately the fortified residence of the gov- 
ernor was razed to the ground ; and thereafter the Nu- 
rembergers were content to be ruled by chancellors of 
their own choosing. 

That eventful change occurred five centuries ago, 
and under the new impetus Nuremberg" became the cen 
tre of vast industries. Extensive manufactories were 
established : it is said that the first gun-lock was made 
there ; also the first watch small enough to be carried, — 
however, they were very large, nearly round, and bore 
the name of "Nuremberg eggs." 

Four hundred years ago the population was about 



256 AFTERMATH. 

double that of the present time ; in wealth and splendor 
it excelled either London or Paris, and was only eclipsed 
by Amsterdam and the Italian cities, then in the zenith 
of their power. The Thirty Years' War proved a severe 
blow to its commercial greatness, compelling it to take 
an inferior position among the European cities. The 
revival of its importance during the last century is 
largely owing to the increase of its manufactories, which 
have already given it something of its ancient renown. 
At this present time the branches of industrial ac- 
tivity in which it principally excels are the manufacture 
of toys, hardware, papier-mache, terra-cotta, wood and 
ivory carving, and — shall I dare add.? — gingerbread. 
But this specialty of Nuremberg has an importance which 
forbids that it should be ignored. It is formed in long, 
square, round, and fancy-shaped cakes ; but to call that 
wonderful production gingerbread no one would ven- 
ture to do, without a particular introduction. The com- 
pound is excellent, as I can advisedly assert, having 
tasted and tested. Its composition is mysterious, but 
various familiar ingredients are evolved as one cautiously 
investigates. I think that without doubt the first dis- 
covery made by a new acquaintance would be that it 
was exceedingly difficult to break, bite, or cut. When 
one has managed to secure a fragment, his surprise at 
that success is augmented by a series of discoveries, 
each more marvellous than the preceding. There is a 
bit of citron, a raisin, the hint of a flavor, an almond, 
suggestions of known qualities mingled with much not 
recognizable, when, like an oasis in a desert, a toothsome 
jelly is reached ; in brief, Nuremberg gingerbread is 



NUREMBERG. 25/ 

an uncertain compound, rich, highly flavored, and spicy, 
but without a suggestion of ginger. 

The river Pegnitz runs through the city, — or more 
accurately, the city is built upon three islands within 
the river,— which fact accounts for the numerous bridges 
at first so puzzling to the stranger. It is nearly equally 
divided, the two portions being called respectively the 
Lorenzer and the Sebalder side. Although but a com- 
paratively small part of the ancient fortifications remain 
intact, there is still sufficient to give a deep impression 
of strength and oddity. The venerable walls which rise 
from the moat, long since dried and overgrown with 
weeds, shrubs, and even trees, look capable of defending 
the gray old town against improvement, — that foe to 
antiquities, — even as in their pristine strength they 
bade defiance to foreign invaders. But where have 
bulwarks ever been found strong enough to successfully 
resist the insidious advancement of that intruder .? 
The first progressive and aggressive railway only ven- 
tured to brush its walls ; the second made a breach ; after 
the initial break in the massive boundary, others easily 
followed, until a large portion of the walls has been 
gradually levelled under the plea of commercial neces- 
sity ; only enough remaining to suggest what the appear- 
ance of the strongly fortified city might have been. 

Notwithstanding this demolition, it will be long 
before the old town will lose all its attractions, although 
they must necessarily lessen year by year. The narrow, 
roughly paved streets, flanked by buildings of the medi- 
aeval style, with all their odd features, will yet endure for 
a time ; as opponents to progress they will be eventually 
swept away. 



25 S AFTERMATH. 

Let us hope that purely out of regard for historical 
associations, the hand of the \^andal will spare the house 
of Albert Diirer, the painter, goldsmith, engraver, and 
writer ; the man who was the embodiment of the intel- 
lectual uprising in Germany during the time of the 
Renaissance. His house undoubtedly was old, as we 
count time, when occupied by his family ; but it still 
stands upon the Sebalder side, though the decay of 
centuries is upon it. It has the high-pitched roof, dor- 
mer-windows filled with minute bits of stained glass, 
projecting balcony, and other peculiarities in full accord 
with the ancient fashion. 

In Diirer's time, Nuremberg was the home of several 
of the Mcistcrsingcrs. Although not one of the original 
Twelve Masters, Hans Sachs, the honest cobbler and 
gifted song-maker, was the most renowned. " The old 
man gray and dovelike, with his great beard white and 
long," has slept for centuries ; but his old dwelling is 
still in a good state of preservation, and though degraded 
to serve as an alehouse, bears his portrait over the door. 

The castle, built in the tenth century, upon a massive 
crag of sandstone, dominates not alone the city, but the 
surrounding country. From every side the views are 
superb, only limited by one's strength of vision and the 
distant mountains. Far below the base of the castle is 
the dried moat, of fabulous depth and breadth ; many 
astonishing tales are told of the valor displayed by the 
knights of old, in their attemps to scale the wall and 
cross the moat. 

Within the court-yard of the castle, '' bound with 
many an iron band," stands the noted linden-tree, said 



NUREMBERG. 259 

to have been planted by the hand of Queen Kuni 
gunde, seven centuries ago. From descriptions, I 
expected to see it in full vigor, with glossy leaves and 
stately trunk : but age has sadly detracted from both 
the quantity and quality of its foliage ; while the shat- 
tered trunk, banded and braced, seemed like some 
scarred veteran, worn and dying from continuous con- 
flicts with summer's heat and winter's cold, awaiting its 
final fate. 

Of course we looked into the black depths of the castle 
well, cut three hundred feet through the solid rock. 
Although I cannot vouch for the accuracy of that meas- 
urement, I am fully persuaded in my own mind that in 
the days long past, it served for other and more tragic 
purposes than simply to supply water for domestic 
uses. 

Among the numerous apartments in the stronghold 
is the chamber exclusively devoted to the display of 
instruments of torture. A person who had a keen relish 
for such sights might reach the acme of delight in that 
room. There were the rack, pincers, thumb-screw, 
gridiron, cradle, and a score or two more of horrible 
inventions ; but of them all, the iron maiden was the 
most diabolical. The assortment of similar relics seen 
in the Tower at London appeared meagre compared with 
this collection, which would have been a credit to the 
Spanish Inquisition in the days of its power. 

There were other articles on exhibition suggestive of 
evils existing long ago, but for the use of which there 
is presumably no occasion in this advanced age : for 
instance, a double yoke, to be worn by two women who 



26o AFTER MA TH. 

had quarrelled; a bell attached to an iron collar, to be 
worn by gossips ; an elaborately wrought mask of the 
same delicate metal, which had the additional charm of 
a widely opened mouth, from which protruded a nicely 
balanced, wagging tongue. As that was designed for 
the slanderer of either sex, it occurred to me that Nu- 
remberg must have been particularly free from that vice 
if one mask sufficed for a population of nearly two hun- 
dred thousand. The daughter of the keeper was our 
guide ; her story was well learned, and she repeated 
marvellous tales with evident enjoyment, dwelling with 
especial delight upon the utility of the ugly iron head 
of a dragon, which was obliged to be worn by women 
who beat their husbands. I could but reflect upon the 
degeneracy of the age, in the presence of that striking 
evidence of the modern invasion of the rights of women. 

Some years ago King Maximilian visited Nuremberg. 
So rare an event as the honor of entertaining a royal 
guest demanded especial preparation ; therefore, at the 
expense of the city, a suite of rooms in the long disused 
castle was refurnished suitably for the reception of his 
Majesty. The contrast between those modernized 
rooms and the remainder of the castle is very marked, 
particularly as in the museum and the several quaint 
chapels are paintings, reliefs, and images which form 
the oddest collection ever seen. 

In one of the public squares stands the Schonbrun- 
nen, or beautiful fountain, which is one of the attrac- 
tions of the city. A long and diligent search for an- 
other equally celebrated was rewarded by the sight of a 
dwarfish, grotesque figure holding two geese. We 



NUREMBERG. 26 1 

thought, '' Le jeu ne vaiit pas la chandelier However, 
it is not wise to ignore anything noted as a celebrity, or 
the grave look of surprise which will steal over the face 
of your questioner when, in reply to the query if you 
saw this or that object, you are obliged to give a nega- 
tive reply, will almost convince you that by such neglect 
you have missed the one thing worth a trip across the 
ocean. 

Nuremberg has several interesting old churches. The 
Frauenkirche possesses superior architectural attractions, 
its very elaborate Gothic portal being its crowning glory. 
But the church of St. Lorenz was the most of a curi- 
osity to me : not on account of its great size, the rich 
and effective finish of the grand nave, with the graceful 
columns, ribbed and vaulted roof; but because, being 
Protestant, it yet abounds in altars, with candles and 
images, Madonnas and saints, and all the variety which 
seems properly to belong to Romanism. It will be re- 
membered that this church changed suddenly with the 
city to Protestantism, under the conditions that it 
should be allowed to retain all of the rich objects of the 
Romish ritual. It is difficult to understand just where 
the line is drawn as you view the significant altar deco- 
rations ; but it is authoritatively stated that they are 
never used. 

In the church are paintings by Diirer, Vischer, and 
other contemporary artists which have more than a 
local fame and are of great value, but I do not remem- 
ber being greatly impressed by their beauty. Among 
them I distinctly recall some thin-faced, solemn-looking 
Madonnas, holding in their arms weird, wild-eyed chil- 



262 AFTERMATH. 

dren ; these probably represent faithfully the style of 
painting affected by the early copyists of the antique 
in the period of the revival of interest in the Fine 
Arts 

Among the curiosities were fragments of ecclesiasti- 
cal history woven in rare old tapestry. I use the word 
"rare" because it is customary, but mentally define it as 
uncommon, for those coarse delineations cannot be con- 
sidered choice. Some of the designs and figures, words 
would fail to describe ; perspective must have been 
utterly ignored when that tapestry was made. In a 
picture of one of the Evangelists, — John, I believe, — 
one of the feet was half the size of the entire figure and 
resembled nothing human. Another represented the 
process of weighing the soul of the patron saint of the 
church. The soul was materialized, wearing the form 
of an infant ; the devil was crouched near, fiendishly 
eying the process ; while St. Lorenz himself, in the full 
statue of a man, but alas ! soulless, was not an uninter- 
ested spectator. 

The facade of this church was originally covered with 
fine sculpture ; the arched doorway consisting of tier 
above tier of Scripture characters and later-day saints. 
I am satisfied that only a connoisseur can appreciate 
torsos ; certainly those dilapidated figures were tco 
much after that order for my uncultivated taste. 

In an exterior angle of the church, upon a slightly 
elevated platform, was a life-size group representing 
the scene in the garden when the disciples, overcome 
by grief, slept the sleep of sorrow. Solemn as is the 
subject, I feel convinced that no person, unless blessed 



NUREMBERG. 263 

with a supernatural degree of reverence or entirely free 
from an appreciation of the ridiculous, could look upon 
that group unmoved by emotions quite the opposite of 
serious. The noseless, broken, battered images have 
become a perfect travesty upon art, and all significance 
is forgotten in the ludicrous appearance which the dif- 
ferent figures present. 

The SacramentgeJidiise, built to contain the sacred 
vessels for the sacrament, is a most artistic work by 
Adam Krafft. Upon it, he and two apprentices spent 
four years of continuous labor ; for it, when completed, 
he received the munificent sum of ^300. 

" In the church of sainted Lawrence stands a pyx of sculpture rare, 
Like the foamy sheaf of fountains, rising through the painted air." 

To see it is the only way to fully comprehend its 
glorious workmanship ; it is said to be the most delicate 
and expressive of any of the works of this Nuremberg 
sculptor, whose old age was saddened by neglect, and 
who died in destitution. 

Under the intricate chancel roof, near the pillar at 
the left, is the structure, supported by the kneeling 
figures of the artist and his colaborers ; above this 
foundation rises, to the height of sixty feet, a slender 
Gothic pyramid of pure white sandstone. The whole 
is adorned with bass-reliefs and statuary, exquisite tra- 
ceries and dainty carvings. The filigree of the apex ter- 
minates in a tiny overhanging tendril ; an appropriate 
finish for this chaste, delicate, and ornate combination of 
stony leaves and blossoms, which has been compared 
to " frozen spray." 



264 



AFTERMATH. 



In none of the European cities frequented by stran- 
gers is one made more fully to realize the fact that he 
is " a stranger in a strange land " than in Nuremberg. 
The curiosity, as shown by the residents, is more per- 
sistent than complimentary. If you stop before a win- 
dow to look at some terra-cotta figure, or to admire a 
specimen of ivory carving as delicate as lace, you turn 
away to find yourself the centre of an admiring crowd ; 
you are silently, solemnly stared at, and even the chil- 
dren are brought forward or held up in arms for a look. 
Gentlemen ( ? ) stop short upon the street to gaze, evi- 
dently forgetful of the haste of the previous moment 
in the desire to satisfy their curiosity. In driving 
through the streets, you are constantly reminded of your 
intrusive peculiarities by the inquiring looks which fol- 
low you, until a friendly corner provides a change of 
admirers. It is in vain to scrutinize details of dress or 
your appearance generally : you may not note the dif- 
ference, but evidently the Nurembergers do ; and finally 
the continual surveillance becomes more amusing than 
annoying. 

I am well aware that this is a very unsatisfactory view 
of the wonders that remain of the mediaeval magnifi- 
cence of this city ; but realizing that the proofs of its 
olden-time glory are lessening each year, and that the 
day is coming when wall, moat, and towers will exist 
only in history ; when the quaint castle will only have 
mention with the records of the Hohenzollern family ; 
when in fact " Nuremberg the ancient " will be no 
more, — therefore, we who have seen some few relics of 
its former glory will with redoubled joy treasure the 



NUREMBERG. 265 

memory of its delightful oddities, and sadly commis- 
erate those who shall journey thither when the strong 
hand of utilitarianism shall have stamped upon the 
modernized city, "Too late." 

" Vanished is the ancient splendor, and before my dreary eye 
Wave these mingled shapes and figures, like a faded tapestry." 



New Books and New Editions 

Just published by 

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RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY. 

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By Rev. Wm. I. Gill, A.M $2.00, 

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THE SCIENCE OF THE DAY AND GENESIS. 

Cloth extra. l2mo. 149 pages $1.00. 

Prof. Geo. W. Northrup, B. D., LL. D., President Baptist 
Union Theological Seminary, Moryan Park, III., says : — 

" I have examined Dr. Nisbet's ' Science of the Day and Gen- 
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want felt by a large number of the more intelligent members of 
our churches. 

"The work gives a summary statement of the questions in dis- 
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large class of people. 

" It is written with candor and ability, and shows familiarity 
with the most important discussions bearing upon the subject. 

" The work is well done." 



RESWiRECM OF THE BODy; DOES II BIBLE TEACH IT? 

With an Introduction by G. W. Samson, D. D., late President of Columbia 
University, D. C. Cloth extra, Ink and Gold, 12mo, 124 pages $1.00 

It is clearly and vigorously written. — I^eto York Sun. 

It is an excellent treatise, — scholarly, logical, — and will form an important cou- 
tribution to Christian theology.— Rev. Wuuam I. Gjcll, Author of ''Evolution 
and Progress," etc. , . , , , j • . : v„ 

The texts of the Old Testament, which have been pressed into service by 
ignorance, he returns to their real significance. Dr. Nisbet explains the physical 
impossibility of the truth of the old belief. — Literary World. ,^ , , 

An interesting fact brought out by Dr. Nisbet is, that the orthodox scholars have 
relaxed much of the former %-igor of the doctrine. Dr. Nelson says : '' \ybelher 
it be a tenth, a twentieth, or an hundredth part of our present body which is to 
enter into the formation of the new, God has not chosen to tell us." bo Dr. Hodge : 
" Not a particle of one need be in the other." So Dr. Hovey : "The resurrection 
bodies of saints may or may not derive the substance of which they are composed 
fi-om the bodies which precede them." Pres. E. G. Robinson says : " Few^any 
intelligent persons can at this day, I thhik, suppose any part of the body laid into 
the grave Is to rise with us at our resurrection.*^' — New Jerusalem Mensenger. 

W. 8. SMITHS CO., Publishers, 27 Bond Street. New York. 

•«• 9«nt post-paid on receipt of price. 



REV. "WILLI^]Vr I GILL'S 

PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS, 

UNIFORM IN CLOTH EXTRA, IMITATION MOROCCO. 

I. EVOLUTION AND PROGRESS. An Ex- 

position and Defence. 295 pp. - - $1.50 

II. ANALYTICAL PROCESSES ; or, the Pri- 
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in. CHRISTIAN CONCEPTION AND Ex- 
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IV. PHILOSOPHICAL REALISM. A fresh 
attempt to Outline the Philosophy of Per- 
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W. B. SMITH & CO., Publishers, 

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The Enchanted Library 

FOR YOUNG FOLKS. 

VOLUMES JUST READV. 



-t 9 » 



So 4. A T Isit to El-Fay -GnO'Land. 

By Mrs. M. M. Sanfokd. Illustrated, .75c. 

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Kindly in the land of Elves, Fairies, Gnomes, etc. 

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By Sydney Dayee. Illustrated 90c. 

Two Stories. — I. How the Little Wooden Captain came 
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»-.-• 

LINDA ; or UBEB DAS MEER. 

By Mrs. H. L. Ckawtokd. Sq. 12mo., red edges $1 laC 

Is larger than the "Enchanted Library" volumes, but is 
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BY CATHEEINE STUART. 
367 Pages, Cloth Bxtra, - $1.25, 



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Latest Facts and Forms in tbe Chemistry 
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The Grand Science of Living. 

Every Re^eipe and Form have been Carefully Tested 

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It omits nothing which a Complete Cook Book 

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It is Valuable in the Dining Room as well as 
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"Wines — a subject never before treated in any book — is 
alone worth more than the price of the volume. 

The author is a lady of extensive travel and liberal cul- 
ture, who is so thoroughly Imbued with her subject that 
Hunger is often excited by descriptions of her Savoi^ 
Dishes. 

"W. B. SMITH & CO., Pubhsiiers, 

27 Bond Street, New York. 



7lli MONTH,— 310th THOUSAND f 



FIFTY ADDITIONAL PAGES, SIXTEEN ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS ; INTRODUC- 
ING " SPOOPENDYKE'S baby," 'a prayer for DAVID DAVIS," "THE 
MUTILATED CURRENCY QUESTION," "THE TEUTONIC VERSION," 
AND OTHERS OF THE MOST EXCESSIVELY HUMOROUS SKETCH- 
ES WHICH THE NOW FAMOUS AUTHOR HAS PRODUCED. 

By STANLEY HUNTLE1-, of the Brooklyn Eagle. 

Paper Ccvera, No. 35of tlie "Satcliel Series," 195 pages. Price 25 Cents. 
Library Edition, 120-lb. paper, cloth extra, beveled, 195 pages, Price $1.00. 

Nuggets of fun.— A". 1'. Herald 

Irresistibly funny.— D(/&(i5!((: Herald. 

It is; still selling.— yl)(if)!c«n Bookseller. 

Aud increasing in public favor. — Albani/ Press. 

Tooluniiy for anvtliing.— i'ismarA; Tribune. 

It is a masterpiece. — ^ew Mexico Pioneer. 

Genuine luu, vvit ami humor. — Albany Press. 

Will drive away ttie bluest blues.- Tro^ Tiv>es. 

Funniest booR of the se&aoa.—New Orleans 'Times. 

An inexliaustibLe vein of hmaor.—Cohimb'us Dispatch. 

it is having a tremendous sale. — Pittsburgh Telegraph. 

A perfect paroxysm of fun. — St. Paul Pioneer Presn. 

These slceicties are hard ou h\\l\.o\w.—^orristown Herald. 

rtiey are goin? offlike Iiot cakes,— Teaias Free Press. 

The funniest boolt eTer publislied. — Oil City Derrick. 

Tiie fun IS upioarlou^, but pure etuu \\\:0.e!fO-me.— Indianapolis Sews. 

Mr. Huntley lias certainly ijecomo famous. — Rockland, Me., Courier. 

Uproariously fuinv, this gem of laugliter.— T^if -i" Wisdom, S. Y. 

Tiie most original humorist of thi> any.—ClncagoSat. hve. Herald. 

Absolutely craniniPil full <if irresistible laugltter.—Keokvk Gate dtp. 

It is making a great hit and having a great run.— Quincy, III., Commercial. 

Nowhere else can you get so much fun for the money.— (?mnd Rapids Eagle. 

Hawhada sale of 2.'>0,0i>0 copid^.—yeicsdm-lers' Dullelin, xV. i'., .Vou'r, 1881. 

Not less than 300,000 copies have been sold.— .V. r. Star, Jan. 1, 1882. 

So mui'.n genuine humor is .seldom found within tte covers of a book.— IT. S. 

Newsdealer. 
Over whic'i thousands and thousands of people have laughed and grown l&i.—Lit- 

eraru Record. . . 

Equalto the best humor of Jerrold's famous "Caudle Lectures," and as original 

as humorous.— .'?«»! Francisco Kxamincr. 
■jfyou want more fun for a quarter than you ever got before, send at once for 

this funniest of funny books.- /ndiaiia Normal Teacher. 
Mr and Mrs. Spoopendyke have come to have a well-deHned existence, as real to the 

mind as any two personages portrayed by nickens.— Brooklyn Eagle. 
llvou want the brightest, sharpest, wittiest and tuuuiest book, buy " Spoopendyke." 
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W B SMITH & CO. publish the LARGEST LIST of Popular Amkkican Novels op 
Ant Hods-s in tue Would. 

Fewnovel series have attained such unbounded popularity as the SATCHEL 
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train ■ are universally commended.— .Wir. dk Amr'n, Manchester, N. H. 



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MORE FUN, WIT, HUMOR, LAUGHTER! 



The Tales of 

RUBE HOFFENSTEIN. 

By JOE C. ABY, of the New Orleans Times. 

No. sa of the «' SATCHEIi SERIES." — Pages, Price 10 Cts. 

These sketches are lull of rich fun, sparkling good humor and hearty laughter. 
10^ The Trade should file their orders immediately in order to get supplies from 
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A LOVE STORY. 



By Mrs. Augusta L. Ord. 
No. 3T of the "SATCHEL SERIES." —Pages. Price 16 Ct«. 

Mrs. Ord is already favorably known as a writer of fascinating short stories. 
"Agatha" is one of the very best sentimental and domestic sketches she haa ever 
produced, and will have a large sale. 



JUST EEADY : A New Edition, Kevised and Enlarged, of 

^^^HAT'S THE MATTER? 

By Celia B. Whitehead. 

A SUPPLEMENT OF 25 PAGES ADDED. 

No. 27 of the "SATCHEL SERIES." 120 Pages. Price 25 C3s. 

A stirring monograph on "Dress Reform," in favor of Common Sense, Comfort, 
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